The Other Side
by cmar
Summary: PRTF: A year later. BioLab has a new enemy. Wes and Eric's friendship is threatened as Wes is losing his mind and Eric is losing his heart. But things, and people, may not be what they seem. Part 2 'Time' Series. Complete.
1. Prologue

Wes, Eric, Mr. Collins, Dr. Zaskin, Taylor, Miller, Philips, Silver Hills and Bio-Lab belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, but I am not and do not expect to make money from this. 

Gaby, Emma, Angela, Gunn, the sisters, Alcott, and TransGenics are mine. 

This is part of a trilogy, which is a sequel to _A Year of Time_, based on the Time Force series, and takes place a year later.  
It should be considered AU, some details are different from the series. (The future Rangers are from two hundred years in the future, Trip and Katie are mutants, etc.)  
The trilogy consists of this story, _The Second Time_, and _Time Over_. Jen is not in this one, but plays an important part in the other two. 

These stories are meant for non-fans as well as fans and also intended to be able to stand alone, therefore there is an annoying amount of recapping and description in early chapters -- sorry. 

Rated PG-13 : Strong sexuality; harsh language, moderate violence. 

Please review, authors live for feedback. Constructive criticism is welcome. 

* * *

* * *

They stood in the small living room of the house they shared, in a circle, hands joined. Her gaze moved around her sisters' faces, all identical, the same face she saw every day in her own mirror. 

"I'll show them to you," her sister said. They closed their eyes. With concentration, they could see the images in her mind, see the people she showed them, not just what they looked like, but how they were on the inside. 

"Wes Collins." A smiling, attractive face, blond hair and blue-green eyes. About six feet tall, and athletic. An open nature, friendly, generous, compassionate. Loneliness, the image of a woman. Underneath, a streak of insecurity and a temper, rarely expressed. They saw him briefly in a navy blue uniform, and then in street clothes. 

"Eric Myers." This man was about the same height and build, but darker in every way. His face was hard and smiled reluctantly, his hair and eyes were dark, the underside of his mind was filled with rage and pain, rigidly repressed. But there were also kindness and sympathy in him, and an unadmitted longing for affection. They saw him in the same uniform. 

"Alan Collins." A tall, middle-aged man, still handsome, with a personality made mostly of strength and determination, a touch of arrogance, and an undercurrent of old grief, the loss of someone close to him. They saw him in a darkened, empty-feeling office and felt his devotion to his work, and the strong bond between him and his son. 

"We can all see which one it should be." 

"I don't like this," she said. 

"I know. But it's not like you haven't done it before." 

She frowned. Dana was right, of course. And often she had enjoyed using her ability, enjoyed the sense of power it gave her. But... "He's different from the others. He could be hurt, badly. He'll be angry, if he finds out." 

"Too bad," Carrie put in. "He's _human_. Not worth all this worry." 

"Humans aren't all alike. It only makes things worse to hate them all blindly." 

"Okay, I'm sorry. But Dana's still right. It has to be done. We have to know the truth, and we can't trust any of them." 

Dana added quietly, "We all have to do what's necessary. We're depending on you. Remember what it was like at T-Gen?" 

She thought back. They had been prisoners there, somewhere in the mountains of northern California. Experiments. Guinea pigs. All their faces hardened at the shared memory of their escape. Each of them had used her own unique talent to contribute. Some of them had gotten information, put together a plan. Then when the time came, they had overcome the guards one night, stopped a truck on the highway, and crept unseen into the back. They had arrived in Silver Hills almost a year ago with nothing, only each other. And they had survived, and pursued their goal, to find other mutants like themselves, maybe to get help for their problem, to punish T-Gen for what they had done, and make sure they never did it to anyone else. 

"I know. I'll do it. But I don't have to like it." She turned away. But they were right. Gina said they were getting close. Just a few more weeks, and they might get what they needed from Bio-Lab. 

* * *


	2. Anniversary

Wes, Eric, Mr. Collins, Dr. Zaskin, Taylor, Miller, Philips, Silver Hills and Bio-Lab belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, but I am not and do not expect to make money from this.  
Gaby, Emma, Angela, Gunn, the sisters, Alcott, and TransGenics are mine. 

Rated PG-13 : Strong sexuality; harsh language, moderate violence. 

* * *

* * *

"Dammit, Wes, pay attention! Wake up!" 

"Ow! You throw me on the floor and it's supposed to be _my_ fault?" Wes lay flat on his back on the exercise mat and glared up. But Eric was the master of glares; he shot back a look that could have blistered paint. 

"Yes, it's your fault. You're not paying attention. You've been wasting my time all morning. I should never have been able to throw you that easily." 

"Geez. Now you're insulting me, too. Anyone ever tell you you're a jerk sometimes?" 

"Lots of people think I'm a jerk. I didn't know you agreed with them." An ironic smile crossed Eric's face as he extended his hand. 

Wes grimaced. "Sorry. Guess I'm just having a bad day." He let Eric pull him to his feet, then rubbed his back and winced. 

"Did I hurt you?" There was a note of concern in Eric's voice now. 

"Nah. You know, I feel like I'm coming down with something. Could we cut this short?" 

Eric gave him a look that contained both disgust and more concern. "You know, when you're fighting an enemy, he's not going to care if you have a cold." 

"Yeah, right. But I'm not fighting an enemy now. Unless _you_ count." He was rewarded by one of Eric's rare laughs. 

They were in one of the Silver Guardians' exercise rooms, where they had these combat practices daily, when they could both make it. Both were experts at martial arts, but Eric was a little better and usually took the role of instructor. He claimed Wes was the only Guardian who could give him some real competition. Wes would have suspected him of flattery, if he didn't know Eric so well. 

"Okay. Go to the infirmary if you're sick." 

"I'm not sick," Wes said. "Just tired, I guess." 

"Tired again? Hot date last night?" 

"You know better than that. See you later, for the interview?" 

"Sure. See ya." 

After a quick shower and change, Wes was back in uniform and walking into his office. He sat behind the desk and leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment of attempted relaxation, trying to clear the cobwebs that seemed to be infesting his mind for the last few days. When he opened them, they automatically went to the framed picture on his desk, containing a photograph of a pretty, brown-haired young woman. He leaned forward and picked it up, staring at it for several moments. 

Distracted from his thoughts by a light knock on the door, Wes looked up and said, "Come in." 

The door opened to reveal another pretty young woman, this one with vaguely Latina features and olive skin behind unfashionably large tinted glasses, and frizzy dirty-blonde hair which Wes privately considered to be a particularly unsuccessful dye job. She smiled brightly and walked up to the desk. When she stopped in front of him her smile faltered for a moment. She looked around, her brows drawing together. 

"Anything wrong?" he asked. 

She looked back at him quickly and replaced the smile. "No, just... thought I heard something. Good morning!" She was back to her usual cheerfulness. "How did your workout go?" 

"Not so good. I wasn't really feeling up to it." 

"That's too bad. You've been looking a little off for a couple of days now." 

"Thanks a lot." His voice was sharper than he had intended. 

"Sorry. Is the interview this morning still on? And the meeting this afternoon?" 

"As far as I know." 

"Good. I cleared your schedule for afterwards." 

"You did?" 

"You wanted to leave early, remember?" 

Wes sighed. "I guess. I don't remember telling you. Sometimes I think you read my mind." 

She smiled again. "That's what any good assistant is supposed to do. If that's all, I'll see you later." 

"Yeah. Thanks, Emma." 

He watched her leave the room, her figure swaying pleasantly in slacks and a sweater. Feeling slightly disloyal, he looked back at the picture. _Jen._ It had been a year now. As of today. He hadn't thought the anniversary of her leaving would be a problem for him, but it brought back the pain and loneliness more than he would have thought possible. 

It had been almost a year that he had been working at Bio-Lab as co-commander -- with Eric -- of the Silver Guardians, the company's elite security force. The first six months he had been in training, but now he was increasingly taking on an equal load. As the Guardians expanded, doing work for the city as well as Bio-Lab, and helping both to recover from the disaster of a year ago, the work expanded too. He enjoyed the fieldwork, the action, but he was finding out that a large part of any police or security work involved paperwork and drudgery. But it was in a good cause, and for the most part he liked it. 

He knew many people -- including some of the Guardians -- still thought he was a spoiled rich kid who only had his position because his father owned the company. And that might be true, at least partially. Others thought he had it because he was a Ranger. That might be true too, of Eric as well as himself. At least only the Guardians and a few other people at Bio-Lab knew he had been the Red Ranger. And he was determined to show them he deserved his job, and was doing it well. 

He was grateful that his friendship with Eric hadn't suffered from working together. Eric had been as good as his word; despite his natural competitiveness, he didn't seem to mind sharing the command he had held alone before Wes was hired. They had been friends for just about a year, too. Wes smiled, remembering what it had been like before. There was a time they had hated each other, and fought more than once, both verbally and physically. But they had learned to respect, and eventually to trust each other. And finally they had become allies, and friends. 

Since then Eric hadn't lost his edge. He was still frequently blunt to the point of rudeness, sometimes moody, and always oversensitive about any real or imagined insult. But he was also kind and loyal, under the tough exterior, and surprisingly good company, thanks to a sharp mind and a surprising sense of humor. And there was no one Wes would rather have at his side in a crisis. 

Wes looked back down at his cluttered desk. The work didn't care what day it was. With a sigh he put down the picture and picked up the first of the schedules he had to go over. It had to be done today, and he had the interview for the new computer security person in an hour and the meeting this afternoon. And then, hopefully, home. He rubbed his forehead with another sigh, feeling a headache coming on. 

* * *

_This sucks._ Gaby sat in a small reception area outside the Bio-Lab offices, contemplating how much she hated interviews. And with a guy named _Wesley_. Probably a real geek. Since he was the boss's son, he was probably an egotistical geek, too. _And you're probably being totally unfair to the poor guy,_ she thought. But a little unfairness helped to pass the time, and settle her nerves just a little. 

She was still smiling at her own thoughts when a woman with big glasses and a mop of blonde hair stopped in front of her. "Gabriella Butler?" she asked. 

"Yes." Gaby stood up and shook hands. 

"Hi, I'm Emma Cambiado, Wes Collins' assistant. He's ready to see you now." 

_Lucky me._ Aloud, she said, "Thanks." 

After a walk through enough hallways to ensure Gaby would get lost trying to get out on her own, they stopped in front of an office door. Emma waved her on, saying, "Don't be nervous. Wes is a great guy." As Gaby started in she caught a mischievous smile on the other woman's face as she added, "It's Eric you have to watch out for." 

As the door closed behind her, Gaby faced two men, one leaning propped against the front of the desk, the other standing behind it. They were both about her age, both attractive, both dressed in military-looking navy blue uniforms with red berets and red braid around one shoulder. But that was where the similarity ended. The one behind the desk had an open face and was instantly likeable. The other one was darker, and harder. His eyes showed mixed Asian ancestry and were staring at her now the way she imagined an entomologist would examine a strange new specimen. 

"Eric, give her a chair," the one behind the desk said. The dark-haired man grabbed a chair next to him and shoved it in her general direction. She moved it into a better position and sat, self-consciously smoothing her slacks and suddenly wishing she had dressed better and done something about her messy brown hair. 

"I'm Wes Collins," the blond man said, sitting down. "Mr. Charm here is Eric Myers." The dark man snorted derisively. 

She stared at him, impressed in spite of herself. Eric Myers, the Quantum Ranger. She had known he worked for Bio-Lab, but hadn't expected to meet him. He looked her up and down. The brief staring contest ended when he gave her something resembling a smile. 

"We've both read your résumé, Ms. Butler. We've been having some problems recently with someone breaking into our computer network. Maybe you could tell us what you'd do about it, if you were our security manager." 

She took a breath. "That depends. Everyone has trouble with hackers nowadays. I'd do a forensic analysis of the machines they've gotten into. Analyze your server and firewall logs. Check your systems for trojans and viruses and so on, and secure your network against future attacks." She went on with the usual list, wondering how much they understood. "If someone's poking around in your systems and trying not to be detected, they're probably looking for something specific. Bio-Lab's a pharmaceutical company. Lots of valuable, sensitive information." 

"I thought our systems were being protected. Do you think they can get at that kind of thing?" Eric asked. 

Gaby smiled. "Microsoft, the FBI, and the CIA have all been hacked. With the Internet, you've got the whole world trying to pick your locks. Believe me, no matter how good your security is, someone will figure out a way to get around it. And that's not counting the possible threat from your own employees." 

The two men traded a look. They continued with the interview, now exchanging the usual questions about hours, working conditions, salary, and advancement. 

"I think that does it. Thanks very much for coming in. We'll be in touch," Wes said, getting up. He walked around the desk and shook her hand. Eric, still leaning on the desk, nodded when she glanced in his direction. In another moment she was being escorted back to the reception area by the same woman who had brought her in. She smiled to herself. The job suddenly seemed interesting. If she got it. 

* * *

When Wes looked at Eric again, he was staring moodily at the floor, the same thing he had been doing before the interview. 

"Well? What did you think of her?" he asked finally. 

"Not bad looking." 

Wes laughed. "Seriously. I thought she sounded like she knows what she's talking about." 

Eric smiled. "You're right. She seemed okay." 

"What about the guy yesterday?" 

"Lender? I didn't like him. Too friendly." 

"Too friendly? What kind of reason is that not to like someone?" 

"Any self-respecting computer nerd likes machines more than people." 

Wes laughed again. "You've got the weirdest ideas of anyone I know. It wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that Taylor recommended him, would it?" 

"It would. I wouldn't trust Taylor to flush a toilet." 

Over a year ago, Wes had temporarily taken over at Bio-Lab when his father was seriously injured. Almost the first thing Robert Taylor had tried to get him to do was fire Eric, a request he had refused. The two had remained bitter enemies. However, Taylor's closest ally in the company, Jenkins, had recently left for greener pastures, and Taylor seemed to have decided a little fence mending would be wise.

"You know," Wes went on, "you should try being civil to him. I think he's trying to bury the hatchet." 

"Yeah, right between my shoulder blades." 

"Come on, Eric. You shouldn't still be holding a grudge, after all this time." 

"Why the hell not?" 

They both turned at the interruption of a tap on the door. At Wes's summons, Emma stepped into the room. 

"Well?" she asked. "Have you two made up your minds?" 

Wes answered. "Not yet. Eric didn't like Lender, the one we saw yesterday." 

"May I give my opinion?" 

"Of course." 

"Hire Ms. Butler. I didn't like Lender either. Just something creepy about him." 

"Poor guy. He's creepy _and_ too friendly. I guess you can call Ms. Butler and offer her the job. Tell her to start as soon as she can. That okay with you, Eric?" 

"Sure." 

Wes waited until the door had closed behind Emma and turned back to Eric. "You free for lunch?" 

"Yeah, we can talk about the meeting." 

"Don't you ever think about anything but work?" 

"No. Let's go." 

The Bio-Lab lunchroom was as crowded and noisy as always when they sat down at their usual table twenty minutes later, and the food was up to its usual standard of blandness. Wes would have preferred a restaurant, but Eric didn't like taking the extra time. 

"Besides, restaurants cost more." 

"Eric, they cost more for a reason. They're better." 

"The food here's okay." 

"Don't you ever want better than okay? And while we're on the subject, why don't you move to a better place? That house of yours is a real dump. And you need a new car." 

Eric raised his brows. "You're unusually critical today." 

"That's not answering my question. I know exactly how much money you make. You could afford to live a lot better." 

"It's called saving for the future. You should try it sometime. Oh, I forgot... you don't need to." 

Wes ignored the sarcasm and went back on the attack. "What's the point of saving a billion dollars if you have a miserable life? You're just cheap." 

Eric stared at him, a trace of hurt in his face. "Look, Wes, I spent enough of my life being broke. I don't intend to let it happen again. And I don't have a miserable life. And it's none of your business anyway." 

Wes was silent for a minute, stabbing viciously at his potato. Eric was right, he didn't know why he was trying to pick a fight. "Sorry. Guess I'm in a bad mood," he said. 

"It's okay. I remember what day this is. That's probably why you feel lousy." 

"And why I'm acting lousy." Wes felt a momentary rush of sadness. "I still miss them." 

"You'll always miss them. But it _will_ get better." 

Wes decided to change the subject. "You ready for the meeting?" 

"Of course. Are you?" 

"As ready as I'll ever be. Have you heard anything more?" 

"I heard someone's been stealing our garbage." 

Wes looked up at him and laughed. "Stealing our garbage? And that's a problem?" 

Eric frowned. "Don't you know anything about security? That's one of the best ways of spying. You'd be amazed what you can find out from garbage." 

"All they'll find out about me is that I like candy bars." 

"Oh yeah? What do you do with your old schedules? Incident reports? Personnel evaluations? Memos? Notes you scribble down? Or do you shred everything?" 

Wes sobered. "Maybe you're right. I never thought about that kind of stuff." 

"Well, start thinking." 

* * *

_Oh Christ, another meeting._ Wes spent a few moments wondering what percentage of his life had been wasted in meetings. This one should be more interesting than most of them, but he was having trouble concentrating today, and his headache was getting worse. As he and Eric walked into the large, rather dark office, he resolved to at least try to pay attention. But it wouldn't be easy. 

"Right on time," his father said from behind his desk, looking at his watch. "Eric, you're a good influence on my son." 

"Thank you, Mr. Collins." Eric saluted. Wes did also, with a trace of mockery and a grin. Collins gave him a skeptical look. 

The door opened again, admitting the last attendee, Bio-Lab's new internal security manager, Daryl Gunn; a large, handsome, and powerful-looking black man. Wes hid a smile as he thought the same thing he had thought when he saw Gunn for the first time a few days ago, that he'd make a perfect action movie star. He even had a perfect name. 

"Let's get started," Collins said, getting right down to business as he usually did. "Mr. Gunn, I'm sure you've already met Wesley Collins and Eric Myers, representing the Silver Guardians. I've called this meeting to address the security problems we've been having lately. If we could have your report?" 

Gunn spoke quietly and clearly. "You're probably already aware of what's happened with the computer systems. Our network administrators report several intrusions into the servers. Some of the scientists suspect their own systems have been broken into, but those are still being investigated. And the latest news is that our garbage is being stolen." Wes glanced at his father furtively and saw that he seemed to take this very seriously indeed. 

Eric spoke up. "We've had the same kind of computer problems. And Wes and I have both found bugs in our offices. We've increased the frequency of our routine electronic security sweeps to daily. We're investigating where the bugs came from and who planted them." 

"And we've hired the new computer security person you wanted. She's starting tomorrow," Wes added. 

"Good. Any more comments, Mr. Gunn?" 

"We're working on it," Gunn said. "We're setting up surveillance on the garbage and setting up a new policy on shredding. Computer security needs to be beefed up, and hopefully the new person can help. We'll need more security training for the entire staff. At this point I think that's all we can do." 

Collins smiled and stood up. "That sounds like a good start. Looks like that's it then. I expect all of you to follow up." 

* * *

An hour later Wes was walking into the foyer of his father's house. Philips, the family butler who had been with them since Wes was a child, greeted him and took his jacket. Wes answered him automatically and started up the wide staircase to his room as soon as he could escape Philips' questions about why he was home so early. 

_Home._ It still didn't feel like home. Home was an old, dusty, abandoned clock tower that he had shared with his friends for almost a year. When it was blown up and his friends had gone back to their own time, Wes had moved back in with his father. He had intended it to be only temporary. But somehow he didn't have the time -- or the inclination -- to find another place to live. 

Wes sat on his bed, pulled open the drawer of his night table, and took out a small pile of photographs. He smiled, remembering the Polaroids they had all taken of each other. Those had been destroyed, along with the clock tower. But in the two weeks they had all stayed in this house, he had taken another set of pictures. He looked at the first one, a shot of all of them, taken by his father. He saw himself, surrounded by Jen, Lucas, Katie, and green-haired Trip, all smiling at the camera. The closest friends he had ever had. 

He lay back on the bed, the smile fading. They had been the Time Force Rangers. His four friends had come from two hundred years in the future, pursuing Ransik, a mutant criminal who tried to destroy Bio-Lab and Silver Hills in order to change the future. Wes had joined them, and been given the morpher that was still on his left wrist, like a very large watch. The morphers changed them into Power Rangers, with suits and weapons that gave them a fighting chance against their mutant enemies. 

Later, another, more powerful morpher had been sent from the future, which Eric had found and taken -- stolen really. In those days Eric had been hostile to them, to say the least. For a while they had wondered whose side he was on. But as Jen had said at the end, he turned out to be a great Ranger, even giving up his morpher, and almost his life, to help Wes. They had given the morpher back in gratitude, and Eric still wore it. 

Inevitably, his thoughts finally turned to Jen. During that year of trying to capture Ransik and his mutant soldiers, they had fallen in love. They had only admitted it to each other at the end, and spent two bittersweet weeks together as a couple before Jen had to return to her own time. They had known all along that it couldn't last. Jen couldn't stay, no one could be allowed to live outside their own time. For the same reason Wes couldn't go to the future with her. 

He closed his eyes, remembering her, remembering the nights she had spent with him in this bed. Sometimes he thought he could still feel her presence here, still catch the scent of her skin on his sheets. The air seemed to carry the echo of her voice. Sometimes when he first woke up, he almost expected to roll over and see her face smiling at him. 

Faintly Wes heard the front door open and close, and then his father's voice from downstairs. He realized over an hour had gone by. Quickly he wiped his face. In a few minutes, there was a tap on the door. "Come in," he said, not quite keeping the despondency from his voice. 

His father opened the door and stepped inside. "Hi. Heard you came home early. Everything okay?" 

"Sure, Dad. I just think I'm coming down with something." 

"That's too bad. Let me know if I can get you anything." 

"Thanks." Wes rolled on the bed to face away from him. 

"Wes. I know today is hard for you. If you want to talk about it, I'm here." 

"Thanks. But I'd like to just stay here for a while." He heard the door close quietly. He had a friend and a father who cared about him. Usually that was enough. But today it didn't help a bit. 

* * *


	3. Beginnings

Wes, Eric, Mr. Collins, Dr. Zaskin, Taylor, Miller, Philips, Silver Hills and Bio-Lab belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, but I am not and do not expect to make money from this.  
Gaby, Emma, Angela, Gunn, the sisters, Alcott, and TransGenics are mine. 

Rated PG-13 : Strong sexuality; harsh language, moderate violence. 

* * *

* * *

Eric sat at his desk, going over his usual last-minute paperwork. He regularly put in a long day, between his office at Bio-Lab and going out in the field with his troops, and this was no exception. At least hiring the new computer security person was out of the way. But after the interview and the meeting he had spent a few hours on an investigation downtown. It had been a long day, and now it was a relief to put down the last piece of paper and prepare to head home. 

He closed his eyes for a moment and leaned back. These twelve-hour days were taking a toll; he felt suddenly tired, and his head hurt. A moment of dizziness came and went, taking the headache with it. He rubbed his eyes and blinked, thinking he must be more tired than he thought. 

It occurred to him that, like Wes, he was depressed about today's anniversary of the other four Rangers' leaving. But he dismissed the thought almost immediately. They had certainly changed his life, and on some level he wished they could have stayed, especially for Wes's sake. But he had never been friends with them, hadn't even liked them until the last couple of weeks. And they certainly hadn't liked him. 

No, it was Wes that was bothering him. He hadn't been himself for days. Normally he was easygoing, lighthearted, and generous almost to a fault, one of the nicest people Eric had ever known. He had a temper -- which Eric had been the target of more than once before they had become friendly -- but it never came out without a reason. Lately he had been preoccupied, depressed, and even irritable, as he had been at lunch. He must still miss Jen more than anyone had thought. With a sigh, Eric wondered what it felt like to love someone that much. 

_Who needs love, anyway. Look where it got Wes._ He stood quickly, suddenly impatient to get out, and get home. After closing his office door, he strode through the quiet, empty corridors, absently noting lights still on in one of the laboratories. One of the scientists working late, probably Michael Zaskin. Normally Eric would have looked in and said hello, but tonight he didn't want to take the extra time. He didn't even want to take the time to change out of his Guardian uniform back to street clothes. 

After a quick walk through the dark parking lot he approached his car, briefly remembering Wes's comment that he needed a new one. It might be a few years old, but it still ran okay. Still, it _looked_ old -- a new car might be nice, and he _could_ afford it.... As he fished in his pocket for his keys, a scream rang through the still, cold air. 

Every nerve suddenly alert, Eric looked around. Another scream sent him running out of the parking lot, to the dark, quiet city street bordering it. He stopped, looking up and down. Then he saw them in the shadows under the trees lining the sidewalk, a woman surrounded by three men, their body language clearly showing her fear, and their intention to attack. 

With a shout, Eric ran at them. Two of the men turned to face him, the third grabbed the woman. He stopped as his two opponents raised their hands, light glinting off the knives they were holding. They advanced on him, smiling confidently, separating to attack him from opposite directions. Eric waited for them to get close, and then spun into action, kicking the knife from one man, grabbing and twisting the other's wrist, making him drop his weapon with a scream of pain. As he forced the man to his knees, Eric sent another kick into the first man's gut, knocking him to the ground. An instant later he had his Guardian blaster out and aimed at the third man's head. 

Number three let the woman go and took off, running as fast as he could. Eric fired, hitting him in the back, then shot the second man, who was climbing back to his feet. He pulled a pair of handcuffs from his equipment belt and swiftly pushed the one he was holding to the ground on his face, and cuffed him. With his hands free, he called for backup. Keeping his eye on the only conscious attacker, he went to check on the victim. 

She was standing quietly under the trees, watching him approach, her face shadowed. He got the impression of dark hair and eyes, and a slender figure. She seemed remarkably calm, considering what she'd just gone through. 

"You okay? Did they hurt you?" he asked. 

"I'm all right. Just scared. You didn't kill them, did you?" Her voice was soft and low, and very attractive. 

"Of course not. They're stunned. Just like on Star Trek." 

That got a smile. "Good. I'd hate to think of anyone dying because of me." 

"Wouldn't have been your fault. What were you doing walking around alone this time of night anyway?" 

"Blaming the victim?" she asked, a hint of teasing in her tone. 

He smiled. "Sorry. But it wasn't the smartest thing to do." 

"I guess you're right. It won't happen again." 

They turned as two Guardians appeared at a run from the parking lot. In a few minutes they had taken the muggers into custody. Eric decided to take care of the victim himself, ignoring the speculative looks he got from his men. He turned back to her as they left. 

"I'll need your name and phone number. And then I'll take you home." 

"My name's Angela. Angela Mudado." She gave him her number. 

They had moved under a streetlight so he could see to write. Eric looked at her more closely. He saw a woman in her early twenties, average height, slim, with long, sleek, straight black hair. Her face was delicately pretty. Beautiful, even. For a moment it seemed familiar, but the impression passed as he felt a touch of headache again. He was surprised by how immediately and strongly he was attracted to her. 

"Come on, I'll drive you home." He turned back toward his car. 

"That's not necessary." 

"You want to get mugged twice in one night? I said I'll take you home." He hadn't meant to sound sharp, and tried to soften the remark with a smile. 

"I live only a few blocks away. Do you mind if we walk?" 

"Okay." A leisurely walk instead of a quick ride, a few minutes longer in this woman's company. He didn't mind at all, even though he'd have to come back for his car. 

"What's your name?" she asked as they walked out to the street. 

"Eric Myers." He was vaguely pleased that she didn't seem to recognize him. He had been quite well known in Silver Hills a year ago, and had been trying to keep a low profile since then. But most people still knew who he was. 

"You're a Silver Guardian." 

"Yeah." 

"A commander?" 

"Yeah." 

"And you're extremely talkative." 

He smiled faintly. "Sorry. I guess I'm not very sociable." 

She looked at him appraisingly. "Eric Myers. I've heard the name before. When those mutants were here, a year ago." She stopped and faced him, putting her hand on his arm. "You were one of the Rangers!" 

"I was hoping you wouldn't recognize me." 

"Why? Which one were you again? Red? Blue? _ Pink?_" 

He faced her with a scowl, then smiled reluctantly when he saw she was laughing at him. "I was the Quantum Ranger. And I still am. Which you probably knew." 

"Why did you hope I wouldn't recognize you? Aren't you proud of what you did? You saved Silver Hills from all those mutants." 

"I guess I'm proud of some of it. Not everything." 

"What do you mean?" 

He shrugged. "Sometimes I didn't get along with the other Rangers. Most of the time, in fact. Mostly my fault." 

"Why? What did you have against them?" 

He paused before answering, then said only, "I thought they had something against me." 

"Why?" 

"I stole their morpher, for one thing." 

"Really? But you must have had a good reason." 

"I wanted it. That seemed like enough of a reason at the time." 

"But you helped them. They must have appreciated that." 

"I guess they did. We ended up working together." 

"And you saved the city. You're a hero." 

He chuckled. "I didn't feel much like a hero. I was just trying to do my job, most of the time." 

"As a Silver Guardian." 

"Yes. Protecting Bio-Lab." 

"Why do you think they attacked Bio-Lab so many times?" 

He shrugged. "It's the biggest target in Silver Hills. I guess that's why." 

She looked away for a moment, then smiled at him. "So what's it like?" 

"You mean being a Ranger? It's... exciting. It makes me feel..." He stopped. How could he describe the feeling of morphing? The rush of power, the sensation of becoming more than what he had been created, of suddenly being stronger, tougher, _better_. "It feels like power, like nothing can hurt me," he said softly. 

She looked down, her face hidden in shadow. But he had seen an expression he couldn't interpret, perhaps of envy, or maybe compassion. 

"It sounds wonderful," she said. "Tell me more. Tell me about the mutants." 

Eric hesitated. He was amazed he had said so much to this woman, and wanted to say more, in fact was glad of any reason to keep talking to her. But he realized they had been standing in front of a small apartment building for the last few minutes. Presumably she was home. 

"It's a long story. And it's late," he said reluctantly. 

"I haven't thanked you for saving me." She stepped closer, laid her hand on his shoulder, and went on tiptoe to kiss his cheek near the corner of his mouth, her lips lingering long enough for him to feel her breath, her body briefly leaning against his. It was a surprisingly intimate moment, sending a startling jolt of desire through him. 

She was opening the door before he collected himself enough to say, "Can I call you sometime?" 

"Of course." With a last smile she disappeared inside. 

* * *

Eric was still thinking about her the next day, in fact he couldn't stop thinking about her. For the tenth time that morning he firmly put her face out of his mind, only to have it creep back in. _God, this is ridiculous. I'm like a teenager with a crush._ He got up from his desk. As long as he couldn't concentrate, he might as well check up on Wes. Anything to distract his thoughts. 

"Feeling better today?" Eric leaned against the frame of the office door with a smile on his face, watching Wes look up at him. 

"Yeah, I'm fine." 

"Good. Just checking." Eric straightened. 

"So, I heard you rescued a damsel in distress last night." 

Eric frowned, slightly dismayed to find himself the subject of gossip. "Well, yeah. She was being mugged." 

"And I heard she's very pretty." 

"I guess." 

"You took her phone number." 

"Yeah." 

"And you walked her home." 

"Christ! Can't I do anything in private? If I sleep with this girl, are there gonna be pictures posted on the bulletin board?" 

"I hope not. Not something I want to see." Wes smiled at him. "So is she nice?" 

"I guess so. We talked for a few minutes." 

"Are you going to see her again?" 

"Maybe. How the hell should I know?" 

"You know, it's like pulling teeth trying to get anything out of you," Wes commented with a grin. 

Eric smiled back. "And that's the way I like it." 

"So, are you going to call her?" 

Eric sighed. "I don't know. She's probably not really interested." 

Wes looked at him, stifling a laugh. "Why not? You're not _that_ ugly. And you're the famous Quantum Ranger." 

Eric shot him a disgusted look, but he had to smile a little. "It takes more than that to make a relationship. And I know I'm not the most likeable guy in the world." 

"You have your own unique charm. And I didn't realize you're interested in a _relationship_. Wow." Eric frowned, impatient and slightly embarrassed. After a pause, Wes went on. "You _should_ start dating someone. I've never even seen you with a woman." 

"Women take time. And money. Besides, I could give you the same advice. You haven't had a date for a year." 

Wes's face turned serious, and unhappy. "I just haven't met anyone I'm interested in," he said. 

Eric stepped further into the office, wishing he knew the right words to help. "It's been a long time. You can't spend the rest of your life thinking about Jen. You've got to forget her." 

He saw Wes's face suddenly flood with anger. "What the hell do you know about it?" he snapped. "I bet you've never loved anyone in your life. And I know no one's ever loved _you_." He looked remorseful a moment later. But it was too late. Wes had said something he must have known would hurt deeply. 

"I can see you're still in a rotten mood," Eric growled. He turned to leave. 

"I'm sorry..." he heard Wes say behind him. But he was out and slamming the door. 

* * *

"There goes Eric," Emma said. "I guess we'll have to catch him later. He looks like he's angry about something anyway." 

"Is he always like that?" Gaby asked. 

"No. But often enough." 

Gaby nodded. It was her first day, and just as much of an ordeal as she had expected. First, two hours spent in personnel, filling out forms, having her picture taken, talking to various people, none of whose names she remembered. Then being shown to her small, but thankfully private, office, where she spent another hour trying to find paper, pens, and other supplies, and getting a computer account set up. Then before she could start trying to familiarize herself with the Bio-Lab systems, Emma had knocked at her door, offering to show her around. 

"You've met Wes, but we'll just say hello," Emma said. They walked up to the office Eric had just exited and knocked. 

"Eric?" Wes's face fell when they opened the door. "Oh. Sorry. Thought you were someone else." 

"Wes, you remember Gaby. I'm giving her the tour." 

"Good. Welcome aboard. How do you like it so far?" 

"Fine, so far. I haven't seen much yet." 

"Well, let me know if you need anything." He smiled and walked around his desk to shake hands. 

"Next," Emma said as they left, "Daryl Gunn. Technically, he's your immediate supervisor, but he's only been here a few weeks. That's why it was Wes and Eric who hired you. You're also expected to work directly with them." 

In Gunn's office, Gaby shook hands with a tall, imposing black man. "Glad to meet you, Ms. Butler," he said with a smile. "I'm sure we'll enjoy working together. Welcome aboard." 

"Thank you. I'm glad to be here." 

Outside, Emma led her on a longer walk, through a few corridors' worth of offices until they were passing several laboratories. Gaby stopped to look in through the observation windows. 

"Interested in science?" Emma asked. 

"Yes, always have been. It's one of the reasons I applied for this job. It seemed like an interesting environment." 

"It is. We have some very smart people working here, and some important research into genetics and biology going on." 

Gaby smiled. "Sounds great. I like smart people." 

"Then you'll love Dr. Zaskin. Come on, I'll introduce you." 

A few minutes later, they had found him, a tall, thin, slightly anxious-looking man at work at a computer in one of the laboratories. Emma led her in. She had to step in front of him before he noticed them. 

"Gaby, this is Dr. Zaskin. He runs most of the research here. Dr. Zaskin, Gabriella Butler." 

He stood, wiped his hand on his pants in what looked like an automatic gesture, and stuck it out for her to shake. "Very glad to meet you. You're the new computer security person." 

"Yes. Nice to meet you too." 

Zaskin smiled. "Welcome aboard. I hope you'll like it here." 

"I'm sure I will." 

They headed deeper into the building, going back into office territory. "Next up is Robert Taylor, head of Administration and Support," Emma announced. 

"Robert Taylor? I thought he was dead." 

Emma grinned. "Not the movie star, the bureaucrat." 

"Ah." 

_Why is everyone here so tall?_ Gaby thought as she shook hands with another tall, slender man, this one with glasses. 

"Very good to meet you. Welcome aboard. Let me know if you need anything," he said. She gave the usual polite responses, and they were on their way again. 

"Next, the big one," Emma said. "The boss." 

"Alan Collins, right?" 

"Right." 

He was tall, too, taller than his son. _So this is what a zillionaire looks like,_ Gaby thought as they shook hands. 

"Good to meet you, Ms. Butler," he said. "I'm sure you'll be able to help us with our recent problems." 

"I certainly hope so. That's what you hired me for." 

He smiled. "Yes, it is. Welcome aboard." 

As they walked back, Gaby muttered, half to herself, "If one more person says 'welcome aboard', I'm going to laugh in his face. What do they think this is, the Love Boat?" 

"There's only Eric left. With the mood he seemed to be in, you'll be lucky to get a grunt." 

"Oh boy, I can't wait." 

Eric was in his office, looking like he was forcibly restraining impatience and irritation as they walked in. 

"Eric, this is Gaby's first day," Emma said. "I'm sure you want to say hello." 

He gave her a polite half smile and shook hands. "Hope you like it here. When can I get a progress report?" 

"I've barely logged on my computer so far. I'll need a few days at least." 

"Okay. As soon as you can. Sorry to cut this short, but I was about to leave." As they started out, he added, "Welcome aboard." 

Gaby caught a glimpse of his face, looking up in surprise as they fled. They managed not to laugh until they were through the door. 

* * *

The sun had set when Eric returned to his office. He'd spent most of the day examining a crime scene at one of their affiliates' stores. It was late now, and usually he enjoyed the quiet and the absence of other people. But tonight he found it oppressive and distracting. With a sigh he pushed his paperwork aside and got up to stare out of the single small window in his office. Even the darkness outside was suddenly depressing. 

_I'm getting as bad as Wes._ And of course Wes was part of the problem, since their argument that morning he had felt the nagging fear that he was losing a friend. An overreaction, almost certainly, caused by his own insecurities. But it wasn't like he had friends to spare. 

Then there was the girl last night. Angela. She was the first woman in a long time he had felt this seriously interested in. Wes had been right. No one had ever loved him. And at the age of twenty-nine, he couldn't think of anyone he had ever loved. Certainly not his parents. As for women, he'd felt infatuation a few times, lust frequently, even affection on rare occasions, but never anything more. Sometimes he thought there was something missing inside him that made him incapable of love. Better not to try. Better to save himself the trouble. Maybe. 

He turned at the sound of a knock on the open door of his office. Wes stood there, looking uncertain and unhappy. 

"I'm sorry. Again," he said. 

"You seem to be saying that a lot lately." Eric smiled faintly. 

"Yeah, I guess." 

"Wes -- are you all right?" 

Wes looked at him with a half-hearted smile. "Just tired. And a little down. I have a headache too. I'll be fine." 

"Go home and get some rest." 

"I'm going." He hesitated for a moment. "Are you angry?" 

He sounded like a small child saying, _'Are you mad at me?'_ Eric sighed. "No, I'm not angry. Just -- concerned. That wasn't like you." 

Wes smiled a little more cheerfully. "Don't worry about me. See you tomorrow." 

"Yeah, see ya." 

As he heard Wes's footsteps retreat down the hall, Eric felt marginally better. His eyes fell on his desk telephone. Maybe it was time to take a chance after all. She had seemed to like him. And he really should tell her that the muggers had confessed and taken a plea. With a deep breath, already anticipating hearing that soft voice, he reached for the phone. 

* * *


	4. Break In

Wes, Eric, Mr. Collins, Dr. Zaskin, Taylor, Miller, Philips, Silver Hills and Bio-Lab belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, but I am not and do not expect to make money from this.  
Gaby, Emma, Angela, Gunn, the sisters, Alcott, and TransGenics are mine. 

Rated PG-13 : Strong sexuality; harsh language, moderate violence. 

* * *

* * *

"You sure you're up for this?" Eric asked. "You still don't look so good." 

"I feel fine. And you look like you put in a late night yourself. Out with what's-her-name again?" 

"Angela. Yes, I saw her last night. And no, I'm not going to tell you all about it." Eric frowned. Wes meant well, but his curiosity could get annoying sometimes. Like now. 

They were back in their usual Guardians' exercise room, about to start their morning workout. Wes had continued to be off his usual form, and today the shadows under his eyes told of another sleepless night. 

"Will you at least tell me what she's like?" 

"You're just going to keep asking, aren't you?" 

Wes smiled. "Yeah. Like you pointed out, I don't have a love life. So I want to hear about yours. Resistance is futile." 

Eric smiled at that. "Okay. We've gone out three times. She's nice, and she's beautiful. She's an editor for a textbook publisher downtown. And we haven't done it yet." 

"I didn't ask you about _that_." 

"But you were wondering." 

"You sound like you really like her." 

"I wouldn't be going out with her if I didn't like her." Eric paused for a moment, frowning. "It's... strange." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I've never felt anything like this before..." At the sight of Wes's questioning smile, he decided to get back to business. "Come on, let's get going. I don't know about you, but I've got work to do." 

"Okay." Wes sank into a ready position, and they circled for a moment. "Come on, tough guy. Bet you can't beat me today." 

"I'll take that bet." Eric moved in smoothly, feinting a few times, then slipping through Wes's defenses to hit him lightly on the chest. "Come on, Wes. You can do better than that." 

Wes's smile slipped, and he looked annoyed. "Try that again." 

Eric did, after a brief flurry of moves landing a light blow to the same spot. He grinned mockingly. "Got you again." 

Wes moved into sudden action, grabbing his arms, pulling him off balance and spinning him onto the mat on his back. The next moment he was sitting on Eric's stomach, pinning him down. After a second of surprise Eric raised his head with a smile. Wes punched him, hard and painfully, in the mouth. Eric gasped in shock, staring up as his hand automatically went to his face. 

"Oh, shit! I'm sorry!" Total horror flashed over Wes's face as he scrambled off. 

"Jesus Christ! What the hell was that for?" Eric was shouting, suddenly furious. He swatted Wes's hands away and climbed to his feet. Checking his hand, he saw blood and pressed it back against his face. 

"Eric, I'm so sorry! I don't know what happened!" 

Wes looked so miserable that Eric's anger abruptly disappeared. "Why did you do that?" he asked more quietly. 

"I don't know! I got angry and -- just lost control for a second." 

"Well. No harm done, I guess. Just forget it." 

"You're bleeding. That's harm. I'm really sorry." Alarmingly, Wes seemed almost on the verge of tears. 

"I said forget it. Anyone can lose his temper. Look at me, I'm an expert at it." 

Wes smiled wanly. "I guess." 

"I think we're done for the day. Why don't you go home and get some rest?" 

"I left early again yesterday. I really have to get some work done. Will you be okay?" 

"No, I'm gonna die from a split lip. Of course I'm okay. I'll see you at lunch." 

"You still want to have lunch with me?" 

"Of course." 

"Okay. Sorry, again." With a last glance, Wes started out of the room, every line of his body dejected. 

Eric watched him go. Despite his own reassuring words, he was worried. He had seen the expression on Wes's face when he threw that punch. It had been full of rage, as ferocious as a predatory animal, and completely out of character for the man he knew. 

* * *

Gaby followed Emma into the crowded lunchroom, relieved to see that their usual table was unoccupied. As they sat down she sneaked a glance at Wes and Eric, sitting together at a nearby table. Emma followed her gaze and smiled. 

"Which one do you like?" 

Gaby took a moment, scowling in exaggerated concentration. Normally she would have avoided answering such a personal question from someone she hardly knew. But she and Emma had hit it off amazingly in the time she had been working at Bio-Lab. They seemed to communicate on some kind of subconscious wavelength. 

"I like both of them," she finally said. "Wes is really nice, most of the time. And Eric -- he has this bad boy thing going. Especially with that busted lip. I wonder how he got it." 

"_I'm_ not going to ask him. Doesn't hurt that they're both total hunks, does it?" 

"I wouldn't kick them out of bed. But I hear Eric has a girlfriend." 

"He's only been seeing her for a week. Maybe it won't last." 

"You kind of like Wes yourself, don't you?" 

Emma face sobered. "He's a great guy. I like him. But only as a boss, and a friend. There could never be anything more." 

"Why not? He's not married or anything." 

"I heard he was in love with someone, but she disappeared and he's never been the same. I think that picture in his office is of her. He never talks about it." Her face had become unhappy. 

"How romantic. Maybe you can comfort him." Emma only shook her head. Gaby leaned forward and lowered her voice. "I guess I'll have to take Eric then. And I know exactly what I'm going to do about it. One of these nights, when he's working late again, I'll slip into his office naked..." 

"Right, you're going to go marching around the hallways naked. You'll probably run into Dr. Zaskin and give him a heart attack." 

Gaby grinned. "I wouldn't kick Zaskin out of bed either." 

"Your bed is starting to sound pretty crowded." 

"I wish. Okay, I'll wear clothes. I'll slip into his office. We'll look into each other's eyes. We'll both know why I'm there. Then he'll crush me against his body with his powerful arms, his cruel lips coming closer... Then he'll rip all my clothes off..." 

"I hope he's going to _pay_ for them. And how are you going to get home with your clothes all ripped up?" 

"He'll carefully take my clothes off and hang them up to avoid wrinkles. Then we'll fall to the floor and make mad, passionate love." 

"On the _floor_? You're going to have one hell of a carpet-burned butt." 

"_You_ are no fun at all." She looked around. Their laughter was attracting attention. Even the unwitting subject of her little fantasy was looking at them curiously. But she had gotten the sad look off Emma's face. 

* * *

"I wonder what's so funny?" Wes said. 

Eric turned back to him and shrugged. "Who knows? Those two are always laughing about something." 

Wes looked away from his face. The sight of Eric's swollen and bruised lip stabbed him with guilt. "Did Gaby give you that progress report you wanted?" he asked after a pause. 

"Yeah. She handed me a pile of log file printouts and output files I don't understand. Probably her subtle way of saying she doesn't have anything useful yet." 

"I guess it takes time." 

"I guess so." 

"You working late again tonight? Or do you have a date?" 

"No, I don't have a date. I'm looking into the robbery at our storage warehouse on the south side. Why?" 

"I'll be here. Trying to catch up." 

Eric looked at him, concern in his face again. "You still look half dead. Maybe working late isn't a good idea. I can cover for you." 

Wes frowned, a touch of that unreasonable anger returning. "I'm fine," he said sharply. "Just stop always asking me if I'm all right. It's getting annoying." 

"Wes, you have to admit something's wrong. I wouldn't be your friend if I didn't worry about it." 

It was rare for Eric to express anything approaching affection, so rare that guilt and despair filled Wes, just as suddenly as the anger. "I'm sorry. I always seem to be screwing up lately. Sometimes I think I'm going crazy." 

Eric stared at him, shock and alarm in his face. Wes shook off his mood with an effort and smiled. "Just kidding. I'll be fine. Look, I have to get going. See you later." He got up. Eric was still looking at him with that worried expression as he turned away. 

* * *

Eric sighed and checked his watch as he listened to the warehouse manager tell his story to him and his second, Steven Miller, for about the fifth time. It was getting late, and he wanted to finish up here and get back to Bio-Lab. 

"There were four of them, dressed all in black. They had these black masks over their faces. And guns. They just came in and started shooting, and then one of them held a gun to my head while the rest of them smashed things and took whatever they wanted." The manager's eyes were wide with remembered fear as he gestured around them to the wreckage scattered on the floor. "Our security guard had dropped his gun. They didn't have to hit him." 

Eric frowned. That was the part that bothered him most. He could understand stealing, although he didn't sympathize with it. But so many of the criminals they ran into seemed to like to hurt people for no reason. A case like this always made him angry. At least this victim would be all right, after he recovered from the concussion the robbers had given him. 

"You said they took five cases of blasters and some records. Anything else?" 

"It doesn't look like it," the manager answered. 

"Which records?" 

"We don't know yet. We're still going through the mess they made, checking documents against our inventory." 

"Well, give me a list as soon as you have it." Eric frowned in thought. He was more concerned about the blasters. They were powerful weapons, more dangerous than guns. It was disturbing to think of them in the hands of criminals. 

A soft chirping beep distracted him. He turned away from the others and raised the morpher on his left wrist to his face. There was only one person -- in this century -- who could be contacting him this way. 

"Wes?" he asked. 

_"Eric. I'm at Bio-Lab. I think we're being robbed. A couple of the silent alarms have gone off, and they seem to be headed for my dad's office. Thought you'd like to know."_

"Thanks. I'm on my way." Eric paused, brows drawing together. It was amazing that anyone would try to break into Bio-Lab, which was known to be protected by the Silver Guardians and two Power Rangers. If whoever was trying it was equipped to fight them, this could be a major battle. He turned back to the store manager. 

"Sorry, I have to go. Guardian Miller will take care of you." 

"I thought _you'd_ be on this case." 

"Miller is my second-in-command. He'll do everything I would. And I'll be back as soon as I can." To Miller he added, "Looks like a robbery at Bio-Lab. Report back when you're done here." 

"Who the hell would break into Bio-Lab?" 

"I'll find out soon enough." 

"Maybe I should go with you." 

"No. I'll call if we need you. But there's a whole troop back at HQ. And I can travel faster on my own." 

A moment later he was outside. But he didn't head for the cars. It had been months since the last time he morphed. Too long. He raised the Quantum morpher to his face and said "Quantum Power!" 

Light burst around him as the morpher activated, using the part of its machinery that was hidden in subspace to charge his body with an energy field and exchange his uniform for the protective Ranger suit. As it faded he looked down at the familiar red and black outfit, his blaster, the Quantum Defender, in its holster on his hip, feeling the surge of power and confidence morphing always gave him. He raised the morpher again and said "TF Eagle!" At once a small, one-person aircraft appeared from subspace, lowering to the ground next to him. He leaped onto the wing and dropped into the seat. He would be at Bio-Lab in minutes. 

* * *

The Red Ranger moved silently through the Bio-Lab corridors, following the sound of footsteps that his enhanced hearing picked up. Wes had morphed just after calling Eric. It had been a long time since he had gone into action as a Ranger. He preferred to do his job as Wes Collins, trying to prove to the Guardians -- and himself -- that he didn't need to depend on Ranger powers. But tonight the hidden video cameras they had installed recently showed him a large group of men invading Bio-Lab, looking heavily armed. If possible, he wanted to handle them himself, as a Ranger, without anyone getting hurt. And he realized he had missed this, missed the excitement of morphing. 

He slowed as he approached his father's office. It was dark, the burglars had managed to shut off the night lighting. But the sensors in his helmet allowed him to see. There were two men, dressed in black and wearing black masks, standing outside the office. They were wearing goggles he recognized as infrared viewers. And they saw him. He ducked back behind the secretary's desk as they aimed guns at him and fired. To his surprise, the guns were blasters, they shot beams of energy instead of bullets. He would have to be careful until he knew how powerful they were. 

Summoning his own Ranger blaster, he started to ease his way around the desk, intending to reach the corridor on the other side and from there the side door to his father's office. As he paused before dashing across the open space, a hand fell on his shoulder. Instantly he threw himself to the floor, rolling away and ending with his blaster pointed at the other person. 

"Take it easy, Wes, it's me," Eric said. "Nice reflexes," he added. 

"Jesus. Don't sneak up on me like that." 

"Sorry. You were headed for the side door. Go on, I'll cover the front." 

"Okay." Wes got back in position and bolted into the corridor, beams of energy barely missing him. But there were more men guarding the side door. He flattened and fired at them, careful that his blaster was set to non-lethal energy and taking two of them down. Behind him he heard more blasting, including the distinctive sound of Eric's Quantum Defender. More black-suited men burst out and ran, retreating down the corridor. He jumped up and ran after them. 

But a renewed burst of blaster fire from behind him stopped his pursuit. Eric might be in trouble. He ran back, and found the Quantum Ranger behind the desk, pinned down by fire from perhaps a dozen burglars, with a group of Silver Guardians also in the battle, firing from the cover of the doorway into the main corridor. Eric or the Guardians had picked off three of the invaders, but the others still had plenty of fight. Wes dived across the open space and joined Eric behind the desk, adding his blaster to the combat. 

He saw the movement of an arm as one of the burglars threw a small object at them. Then everything happened so fast he could hardly follow it. Eric shouted at the Guardians, ordering them back. The burglars fired a last round and ran back into the office. And Eric was after whatever they had thrown, grabbing it, dashing to the visitor's bathroom that opened off the back of the reception area, flinging it in and slamming the door. As he started to turn back toward Wes, that side of the room exploded in a roar of fire and deafening sound. 

Wes was shielded from the worst of the blast by the desk, and the corner of the office had protected the unconscious burglars. But Eric had not been so lucky. He had been caught by the full force of the explosion and thrown across the room, into the far wall. Now he lay on the floor, unmoving. 

"Eric!" Wes ran to him, started to roll him over and then remembered it might be dangerous to move him. He drew back a moment later as Eric's suit overloaded from the strain of protecting him and he demorphed with a warping, sparkling light. 

"Oh God. I forgot how much I hate that." Wes had never been so glad to hear Eric's voice. 

"Are you all right?" 

"A few bruises. Otherwise I'm fine." Eric sat up, looking around. "Grenade. Saw a few of those in the service." 

"Pretty fast thinking, throwing it in the bathroom like that." 

"Thanks." Wes stood and helped Eric get up. The Guardians were back, looking around the room and starting into Collins' office. Eric raised his voice and commanded, "Secure the area. They're probably gone, but be careful. See if they took anything." To Wes he went on, "You'd better go with them. We can stand up to those blasters. They can't." 

"Right." Wes nodded. Eric would be unable to morph again for hours, so it was up to him. He followed the Guardians into his father's office. Looking around, he saw instantly that the safe had been pulled out of the wall. It was lying near the side door. At least they had kept the thieves from taking it. He went out the side and down the corridor to make sure the danger was over. 

After a quick check, which revealed the door the burglars had forced on their way in and confirmed that they had left the same way, Wes headed back. He found the men he had stunned still lying outside the side door. The Guardians standing over them looked at him, their faces grim. As he demorphed and passed them, they avoided his eyes. Walking back into the reception area, he found Eric kneeling over the other three burglars they had knocked out during the firefight. He looked up at Wes, his face even grimmer. 

"They're dead," he said. "These three and the two in the hallway. They're all dead." 

* * *


	5. Outbursts

Wes, Eric, Mr. Collins, Dr. Zaskin, Taylor, Miller, Philips, Silver Hills and Bio-Lab belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, but I am not and do not expect to make money from this.  
Gaby, Emma, Angela, Gunn, the sisters, Alcott, and TransGenics are mine. 

Rated PG-13 : Strong sexuality; harsh language, moderate violence. 

* * *

* * *

The room was very quiet. Eric looked around at the two other people waiting with him in the office Mr. Collins was occupying until his own could be repaired. Wes sat next to him, looking angry and tense. Collins was behind his desk, his face calm, but he had to be upset. 

They all looked at the door when it opened, admitting Daryl Gunn, the Bio-Lab security manager. Eric still resented his presence a little; he felt he and Wes should be in complete charge of Bio-Lab security. But he had to admit Gunn was doing a good job, and was taking some of the load off them, allowing them to concentrate on the Guardians' more specialized duties. And they needed someone to investigate this incident who was not directly involved. 

Collins stood up as Gunn took his seat. "All of us know why we're here," he said. "The police are investigating the break-in and the resulting deaths. They prefer the Guardians not get involved in this case. But I want us to conduct our own investigation, in cooperation with the police or not." He glanced quickly at Wes, and then away, concern for his son showing only for an instant. "Mr. Gunn, would you bring us up to date?" 

Gunn stood. "As you know, there was a robbery in Bio-Lab headquarters last night. The intruders broke in through a fire door on the west side of the building. They set off a silent alarm and were picked up on the video system. Wes Collins intercepted them at Mr. Collins office. Eric Myers and a group of Guardians joined them there shortly. There was a gunfight, or rather a blaster fight. One of the intruders threw a grenade, which Mr. Myers tossed in the visitor's bathroom. When the smoke cleared, so to speak, five of the burglars were dead, and the rest escaped. They had removed the wall safe in Mr. Collins' office, but were forced to leave it. It was not opened. As far as we know, they took nothing else. 

"We have two problems here. One is to find out who they were and what they were after. Obviously they were too well armed and too numerous to be ordinary thieves. There's a strong possibility that they're the same ones who robbed our Southside warehouse and stole several cases of blasters. The second is to find out what -- and who -- killed the five who died. Legally it's not an issue. They broke in, we resisted, those deaths are certainly self-defense." 

Collins broke in quietly. "But we have a policy against using lethal force, whenever possible. That's one of the reasons we still use blasters instead of guns. I want to find out what went wrong here." 

Gunn went on. "Not to mention we've lost the opportunity to question those men. We want to assign responsibility internally, and make sure it doesn't happen again." 

Wes spoke up, his voice holding an undertone of anger. "And you're just assuming we killed them." 

"According to the preliminary examination, they died by blaster fire. Including the three at the office front door. The explosion did not kill them. The most obvious suspects are the two of you and the other Guardians." 

"Now we're suspects? We tried to do our jobs and you start accusing us of murder?" Wes's voice was getting louder. 

"Calm down, Wes," Eric said. "He's just doing his job." 

"Yeah, right." To his relief Wes subsided, still glaring angrily. 

"Wes. Son," Collins said. "Are you sure your blaster was set on low power? Your Ranger blaster as well as the Guardian one?" 

"Of course I'm sure!" 

"Eric?" 

"So am I. I wouldn't make a mistake like that." 

Collins turned back to Gunn. "That's good enough for me." 

"In the excitement of a fight like that, how can anyone be absolutely sure of what he did? I'm sorry, but we still have to look at the evidence." 

Eric raised his left arm. "Maybe you don't know this, but I can communicate with my morpher. I've already asked it whether the Defender was set on non-lethal power last night. It was." 

"Can your morpher talk to us? Or do we have to take your word for it?" 

"The morpher communicates telepathically, only with me, so I can't prove it. It's up to you whether you believe me or not." 

"Then you're right, it's not proof." 

"Another thing. Wes is the only one who could have shot the two men at the side door." He saw Wes sit up and stare at him furiously, and held up a hand to stop him. "And the three at the front door were already down when Wes joined us there. From his position he couldn't have hit them. The others will back me up." 

Wes smiled victoriously. "So there's no one person who shot all five. It couldn't have been us. Unless you think we both made a mistake. Or that we're both murderers." 

"Wes, no one's talking about murder," Collins said. 

"We risk our lives and you let him make accusations!" Wes waved at Gunn. 

"Wes!" Collins exclaimed, his voice holding a touch of anger. "Settle down." 

"You're on his side, aren't you? You think I screwed up!" 

Eric looked at him in alarm. Wes was becoming irrational, and was working himself up to another outburst, maybe a violent one. And he didn't want Gunn or Collins to see it. 

"Wes," he said as calmly as he could manage. "I'm sure Mr. Gunn doesn't think we did it. He just has to cover all the possibilities." 

"That's right," Collins added. "He's trying to do a good job. The same way you did last night." 

Wes sat back, still looking angry. "Don't patronize me," he grumbled. But he seemed calmer. 

Eric turned back to Gunn in time to hear him say, "I think you should both be suspended from active duty, along with the Guardians who were involved, pending the outcome of this investigation." 

"What!" Now Eric was angry. He glared at Gunn. "You don't have anything even close to proof that any of us did anything wrong." 

"It's only for the course of the investigation." 

"What's the purpose of suspending them?" Collins asked. 

"For one thing, it'll look better to the public. For another, they have to stay out of the inquiry process. That'll be easier if they're not on active duty." 

"He has a point," Collins said reluctantly. "I'll have to go along with this. Miller will be in charge until this is over." 

Eric fought down his anger and frustration. He looked at Wes, to see him staring down at his hands, his face dejected, appearing not to be listening. Again, he seemed to have slid from unreasonable anger to equally unreasonable depression. With a guilty twinge, Eric thought it might be best after all for Wes to be suspended. 

"I also want you to turn over your morphers." 

"_What!_" Eric exclaimed, louder this time. He narrowed his eyes at Gunn, and went on in a dangerously low voice. "Don't even think about it." 

Collins cut in. "I think that's pushing it. They can keep their morphers." Gunn looked as if he wanted to protest, but thought better of it. After a moment Collins stood. "I think that does it for now. Eric, I'd like a word with you." 

The others stood obediently and filed out, including Wes, who did not even look up. Eric moved in front of the desk and waited. 

"Sorry about the suspension." 

"I don't like it, but it's your decision, sir." 

Collins looked down at his desk, then back up at Eric's face. "What's wrong with my son?" 

Eric felt the impulse to protect Wes by denying anything was wrong. But that might do more harm than good. And Wes's father had the right to know. Maybe he could help. "I don't know. He's not himself lately. He gets angry for almost no reason. And sometimes he gets depressed. And his mood changes so fast.... I'm worried about him." 

"Have you asked him what's bothering him?" 

"Yeah. He says he's just tired. At first I thought it was the anniversary of Jen leaving, but that can't be all it is." 

Collins' eyes focused on him. "What happened to your face?" 

Eric shifted uncomfortably. "We were doing our workout. It was an accident." 

An expression of pain flickered over the older man's face. "Do you have any ideas at all? Anything I can do to help him?" 

"If I could think of anything, I'd do it myself." 

Collins stood again. "Thanks. If anything else happens, please let me know." 

"Of course. I want to help. Almost as much as you do." He saluted, turned, and started out. 

"You're a good friend," he heard from behind him. With a quick nod, he went through the door. 

Eric headed back to his office. With a pang he realized that was the only place he'd be working, for a while at least. He'd have to turn over most of his duties to Miller. At least it was an opportunity to catch up on his paperwork. But that was very little comfort. 

As he sat down at his desk, Eric's eyes fell on his phone. He had a date tonight. But he had the urge to call Angela now, to tell her about the meeting, to hear her sympathy, just to hear her voice. _No,_ he told himself sternly. _You'll see her soon enough. Don't let her think you're desperate._ He glanced at the clock, impatient for the day to end. 

* * *

It was a beautiful night, Eric thought. Just a little chilly, but not cold. An almost full moon casting a soft cool light. A little bit of breeze stirring the trees. Almost no sound except their footsteps on the sidewalk. A beautiful end to an evening that had nearly made him forget his problems. As they walked along the empty street, he could almost believe that no one else existed in the world except himself and Angela. At that moment he couldn't imagine ever needing anyone else. 

He looked sideways at her as they slowly walked toward her apartment building. Each time he saw her she seemed more beautiful to him, more fascinating, and more mysterious. He hardly knew her, despite the hours they had spent together. They always somehow ended up talking about him. She wanted to know all about him, especially his 'adventures' as the Quantum Ranger. Eric had never been the focus of so much attention, and from her, he liked it. 

She noticed him looking and smiled at him. That was another thing he liked about her, she seemed not to have the usual compulsion to fill every possible moment with talk, whether or not either of them had anything to say. She seemed to sense his moods and know when he wanted to be quiet. 

"What are you thinking about?" she asked. 

"You," he answered honestly. She smiled again. 

"I hope they're good thoughts." 

"Yeah. I was thinking you always seem to know when I feel like talking and when I don't." 

She laughed. "Anyone can do that. It just takes a little sensitivity." 

"Maybe. But maybe we should talk when _you_ feel like it." 

"Or when we both do." 

He smiled. "I wish you'd tell me more about yourself." 

She looked down. "I'm just an ordinary person. I come from a nice family in the Midwest, went to college, moved here, got a job. The most interesting thing that's happened to me lately was meeting you." 

"I'm not that interesting." 

"_You_ haven't told me much about yourself either. About your family or how you grew up." 

Eric frowned slightly. He didn't want to spoil their good mood by going into the details of his childhood, which had been notable mostly for his parents' neglect, abuse, and ultimate abandonment of him. He fell back on his usual story, which was true enough, as far as it went. 

"We were pretty poor. My parents are gone now. I enlisted at eighteen and took this job when I got out." 

"Poor Eric. You've had a hard time." 

He felt a touch of annoyance. "I don't feel sorry for myself." 

"No. I suppose you don't." She took his hand, immediately dispelling his irritation. "You've accomplished a lot since you came here. Being the Quantum Ranger, and getting promoted to commander." 

"Yeah, I guess." He was flattered in spite of himself. 

"Won't you tell me more about it? Like how you captured those mutants?" 

"It wasn't that hard, with the Quantum weapons. The Defender is pretty powerful. And I had the Q-Rex then." 

"But the mutants were very strong, weren't they?" 

"Well, yeah. Stronger than any human. They were made to be strong." 

"Made?" He heard a note of sharp interest in her voice. "Who made them that way?" 

He shrugged, a little uncomfortably, realizing he had said more than he should. "Someone must have made them. A mutation like that wouldn't just appear out of nowhere." 

"Don't you know where they came from?" 

"I… really can't say." 

She stopped, and tugged on his hand to turn him to face her. With a smile she moved closer, sliding her arms around his waist. "Won't you tell me? Don't you trust me?" Lightly, she kissed him on the chin, barely making contact, her body leaning into his. Her nearness was overwhelming, almost dizzying. "Didn't Bio-Lab make the mutants?" she murmured. 

The unexpected question broke the spell. He chuckled. "Now, that I can tell you. No, Bio-Lab had nothing to do with making those mutants." 

She frowned for an instant, then smiled softly again. "Maybe they did, and you don't know about it. Company secrets. Maybe you should try to find out." 

"Why would they do that?" 

"For power. To use them as weapons." There was a tiny note of bitterness in her voice. 

"Believe me, Bio-Lab didn't do it." 

"If you're so sure, you must know who did." 

He sighed. "Look, Angela, I won't lie. I do know. But I can't tell you. It's not my secret, and there's good reasons for us not to tell." 

"Us? Who else knows?" 

"Only a few people. I can't tell you that either. Why don't we talk about something else?" 

He thought he saw a flash of anger on her face, but it was gone so fast he couldn't be sure. And when she took his hand again and smiled, he decided he must have been wrong. They started to walk again. 

"I hope everything turns out all right for you, with that break-in and those men being killed. I know you couldn't have done anything wrong." 

"Too bad you don't have Daryl Gunn's job. He still considers us under suspicion. I can't believe Mr. Collins went along with suspending us." His voice tightened with anger. "Tried to take our morphers. As if we'd just hand them over." 

"Does anyone know yet what they were after?" 

"They tried to take some confidential records from Mr. Collins' safe. That seems to be the only thing they were interested in." 

"I wonder who they were." 

"So do we. We're trying to find out." 

"Maybe they're from a rival company. It would make sense that they'd try to get the information in Mr. Collins' safe." 

"That's a possibility. But corporate spying doesn't usually include armed robbery." 

She shrugged. "And how is Wes doing?" 

Eric frowned, some of his anxiety returning. "Not good. He seems to blow up at the least thing. He's like a different person all of a sudden. And sometimes he gets depressed, like I've never seen him before. Sometimes I'm afraid he's having some kind of breakdown." He looked at her. "I probably shouldn't have told you that. Please don't tell anyone else." 

"Don't worry. I know how to keep a secret." She smiled a little as they stopped in front of her building. 

"Well, here we are," Eric said reluctantly. He hated to see their dates end, more each time. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, feeling that dizzying sensation again as she seemed to melt against him. In that moment his whole world narrowed to her mouth under his, her body filling his arms and hands and pressing against the length of him. When the kiss ended he bent his face into her silky hair, inhaling the clean scent of shampoo and subtle perfume. 

"Will you invite me in this time?" he murmured. 

"I'm sorry. My roommates will be there. Probably sleeping." 

"We could go to my place. It's not much, but it's private." 

She pulled back and put her hands on his chest. He knew the answer before she said it. "It's too soon. I don't want to rush things and take the chance of ruining everything, especially with you." 

"I don't think anything could ruin this. At least not for me." 

She smiled. "Maybe I'm just old-fashioned." She put her arms around his waist again and leaned in to kiss him lightly. "I think it's worth waiting for. Just give me more time. If it's real between us… it'll happen soon. You're not angry, are you?" 

Somewhat to his own surprise, he wasn't, not even disappointed. At some point in the last few seconds, his desire had faded and been replaced with something gentler, something he didn't want to identify as love. He smiled back. 

"I couldn't be angry at you. See you day after tomorrow?" 

"I'll be waiting." With another gentle kiss, she stepped back. He watched her reach the building entrance and waved when she turned back to him. Then the door was closing behind her. 

_What the hell is happening to me?_ He had never dreamed he could fall for any woman this way, so quickly and so hard. It occurred to him that he was acting as strangely as Wes, in his own way. Slowly, he started for his car, the feel and smell of her still lingering in his mind. 

* * *


	6. Breakdown

Wes, Eric, Mr. Collins, Dr. Zaskin, Taylor, Miller, Philips, Silver Hills and Bio-Lab belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, but I am not and do not expect to make money from this.  
Gaby, Emma, Angela, Gunn, the sisters, Alcott, and TransGenics are mine. 

Rated PG-13 : Strong sexuality; harsh language, moderate violence. 

* * *

* * *

Wes stared at the ceiling of his bedroom. There was a crack running along it, over the bed. He examined it for perhaps the tenth time that morning. He didn't feel like getting up. It hardly seemed worth it lately. In the days since he had been suspended there was little for him to do but sit in his office and go over paperwork. He wasn't even supposed to let the active Guardians consult with him on their assignments. 

But he had to get up sometime. It wouldn't be responsible to just lie there forever. And he mustn't be irresponsible, people would be disappointed in him, even more than they already were. He rolled out of bed, shuffled into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Standing with the warm water pouring over him, he shut his eyes and tried to empty his mind. But it persisted in running through the same angry and depressing thoughts he had been having for days. 

They had no right to punish him, as if he had done something wrong. He and Eric had been doing their jobs. They didn't trust him. They didn't care what this was doing to him. No one cared. They were all just a bunch of heartless bureaucrats, including his father. Especially his father, who was the one who should have stood up for him, and for Eric. 

He felt the anger build up again, grinding his teeth as he seemed about to burst with it. Then it eased, and faded, leaving him tired and hopeless, his daily headache already starting. He shut off the water and slowly dried off, then dressed. When he reached his bedroom door, he stopped and took a deep breath. Time to face the world again. It was getting harder every day. 

Downstairs he found the breakfast table set and his father waiting, reading the morning paper. As Wes sat down, Collins lowered the paper, giving him what had become his usual look; an appraising, concerned glance, wondering what was wrong with him, what he was going to mess up now. Wes avoided his eyes and reached for the eggs. 

"Good morning," Collins said. "Feeling any better today?" 

"I'm fine." 

"You still look tired." 

"I said I'm fine." 

"Maybe you should stay home today." 

"I'm sick of home. I'm sick of work, too. But it's better than sitting around here all day." 

"I know this suspension is hard on you. But please be patient." 

"Yeah, I'm trying." Wes managed an empty smile. 

Collins folded his paper and put it down. "Wes, I still think you should see a doctor." 

"I'm not sick. Just… a little frustrated." 

"Something was wrong before this happened. And you've been having so many headaches." 

"Look -- if I'm not better in few days, I'll go to a doctor. Okay?" 

"All right. Can I give you a lift to work?" 

"I'd rather have the car with me." 

Collins got up and stood for a moment longer, watching him. Wes looked up at him. Even through his irritation some part of him was touched by his father's concern. He smiled, genuinely this time. "I'll be fine, as soon as this business is cleared up. You'll see." 

Collins gave him a smile in return. "I'm sure you will. See you at work." 

* * *

Wes walked up to his office, absently noting that Emma was not at her desk. He opened the door to find her inside, looking a little flustered. She greeted him with her usual smile, but there was something strained about it. Undoubtedly, she was worried about him, just like everyone else. He felt a touch of annoyance. 

"What are you doing in here?" he asked. 

"Looking for the records on that restaurant robbery last week. Steve Miller wanted them." 

"Aren't they filed away?" 

"I found them." She started out and turned back to him at the door. "By the way, good morning." 

"Yeah. Morning. Could you do me a big favor and get me a cup of coffee? And some aspirin?" Wes sat and rubbed his eyes. 

"You have another headache?" 

"Yeah." 

She came back in and leaned on the other side of the desk. "Wes, maybe it's none of my business, but you really need to see a doctor. And you need to stay home for a while." 

Wes looked up at her, annoyed but recognizing the concern in her face. "I don't need a doctor. And I don't feel like staying home." 

"I'm serious. This office... isn't good for you." For a moment she seemed about to say more. But with a frown she straightened and went back to the door. With a last look at him she left. 

A few minutes later, fortified by the coffee and aspirin Emma had delivered -- along with another worried stare -- Wes tried to get down to catching up on reviewing case reports. But his headache was getting worse, and the letters seemed to swim and blur on the page. He blinked at them, trying to force his eyes into focus, realizing he hadn't understood a word. 

"You look like shit." Eric was standing in the doorway, his face smiling slightly but his eyes sharp with concern. Wes smiled, appreciating the bluntness after so many polite questions. 

"My head hurts again." 

"Did you take an aspirin?" 

"Yeah. This headache's just laughing at them." 

"You really need to see a doctor. Maybe you're getting migraines." 

Wes considered that. It appealed to him, just having a name for what was wrong with him would help. And it was better than thinking he was going insane. 

"Okay. I'll go to a doctor tomorrow. Happy?" 

"Go today. You can go to the infirmary anytime you want." 

"We have that meeting right after lunch." 

"Go after that." 

Wes sighed. "Okay. I can see you won't leave me alone if I don't." 

"You bet I won't." 

Wes looked down at his papers again, trying to make sense of them. He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned his head on his hands, trying to force the headache away. A wave of dizziness washed over him. He heard a voice and looked up again to see Robert Taylor standing across the desk from him, watching with an expression he couldn't identify. Wes blinked in surprise. He didn't remember Eric leaving, or Taylor coming in. 

"Are you all right?" Taylor asked. 

"Yeah, sure. I'm sorry, what were you saying?" 

"I just came by to see how you're doing. With the suspension and all." 

Wes looked back down at his desk. "I'm okay. I'm sure we'll be back on active duty soon." 

"I hope so. Sometimes an investigation like this can drag on for a long time. I'm sure you and Myers are getting impatient, having to sit on the sidelines like this." 

"Yeah, we don't like it." 

"Too bad your father didn't prevent it." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Well, just that if he really believes you're innocent -- which I'm sure he does -- I'm surprised he'd let you be suspended. He's the boss, it was really his decision, you know." 

"I'm sure he was just trying to do the right thing." 

"Of course he was. And it's very loyal of you not to resent being treated so badly. Most people in your situation would be angry. They'd be thinking about getting back. Especially at your father." 

"You really think he shouldn't have done it?" 

"Well, I'm not in charge, of course. But I would never have done something like that to you, after everything you've done for this company. I'd be thinking about what you can do with that morpher of yours, if you wanted. I think your father made a big mistake." 

"And _I_ think that's about enough of your bullshit." They both looked up as Eric stepped into the room, his face heated, his fists clenched. He took a threatening step toward Taylor, glaring angrily. 

Taylor backed away, his confidence evaporating. "I was just making conversation, just trying to help." 

"Right. Trying to help Wes think his father is out to get him." Eric's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "What are you up to? What was the point of that?" 

"Nothing. And if you're going to be as rude and unprofessional as usual, I'm leaving." 

"Yeah? Bite me," Eric suggested, taking another step forward. Taylor exited the office with undignified speed. Eric watched him go, and then turned back to Wes. 

"Maybe he's right," Wes said. "Dad should trust us more. I'm his son, after all. And you've saved his life." 

"He has to treat us the same as everyone else. You know that." 

"Why are you taking his side?" 

Eric gave him a concerned look. "The meeting after lunch is supposed to be a progress report on the investigation. Let's wait and see what Gunn's come up with. Maybe all of this will be settled." 

"They shouldn't have done it in the first place. Should have trusted us. Don't they know what we could do with these morphers, if we wanted? But we've always used them to help people. Saved this whole city, twice. Risked our lives. But they've forgotten all about that." 

Eric stared at him for a long moment. "I'm sure no one's forgotten." He smiled suddenly. "Listen to us. I'm supposed to be the one who's angry, and you're supposed to be the reasonable one." Wes smiled, although he didn't really understand what Eric was talking about. He was being perfectly reasonable. 

"Want to grab some lunch?" 

"No. I want to finish this." The truth was Wes wasn't hungry, but if he said so Eric would just get that worried look again. He reached for the aspirin bottle as Eric left. 

* * *

The next hours passed in a blur of pain and confusion. Emma came in and asked him if he was all right. So did his father. Someone else did too, but he didn't remember who. If they would just leave him alone, stop asking him questions, maybe his head would stop pounding. Six aspirin later, his headache had receded enough to let him pretend everything was all right when Eric came to get him for the meeting. 

Wes followed Eric into the office his father was using. Looking around, he saw it already showed the imprint of his father's personality; unnecessary furniture and decoration had been removed and the lights had been lowered. They were the last ones there; Gunn and an uncomfortable Michael Zaskin were waiting along with Collins. He stared at his father until he looked back uneasily; reading guilt, deception, and cruelty in the older man's face. He would be quiet for now, and see what they did. But then he'd make sure they knew how wrong they had been. 

As they sat, Collins spoke. "Mr. Gunn is ready to give us a progress report. Hopefully we can get this matter resolved. Mr. Gunn?" 

Gunn turned in his chair to face them. "Thank you. From descriptions of the intruders and other evidence, we've come to the conclusion that these were definitely the same people who robbed our warehouse and took a number of Guardian blasters. Considering the fact that they also took the confidential records that were stored there and attempted to steal Mr. Collins' safe, which contains even more sensitive records, it's very likely that they are the same ones who are behind the various other attempts to gain access to Bio-Lab information. This leads to the conclusion that a well-funded, highly-organized enemy is attacking us. Whatever they want, they want it badly enough to resort to thievery and murder. 

"Now, as for the deaths of the five intruders, Dr. Zaskin informed me that he and his staff have a method of identifying the blaster weapons which were used on them. He has now finished that analysis. I'll let him explain." 

Zaskin sat up and spoke with even more than his usual self-consciousness. "We all know that Bio-Lab developed the Guardians' weapons, basing them on weapons recovered from the mutants who attacked us last year. Each blaster has a unique energy signature that can be identified, almost like the rifling on a bullet. We can read the signature from anything that's been hit by an energy blast. Even a human body. Alan -- Mr. Collins -- got permission for me to scan the bodies. It definitely was a Guardian weapon that killed them, not one of your Ranger blasters. The same one killed all five men. And according to our records, it was one of the blasters stolen from the Southside warehouse. Apparently one of the thieves killed his own men." 

Collins smiled at Wes and Eric. "Well, there we go. We have proof. You're both back on active duty as of now." 

As Eric smiled at him, Wes knew he probably should be happy. But his anger had intensified, and waves of pain were rolling through his head. Just because they had finally decided he hadn't done anything wrong, he was just supposed to forget the distrust and disrespect they had shown. They would find out it wasn't that easy. They'd have to realize it was dangerous to make him angry. 

Gunn faced Wes and Eric. "Yes, you've been cleared completely. Personally, I had no doubt you would be. But I'd like to apologize for what you've gone through." 

"You apologize. That's great. I guess that's supposed to make up for what you did? We should never have been suspended in the first place!" Wes said. 

Eric turned to him, alarm on his face. "Wes, it's over. They did what they had to do. No reason to get angry." 

"You're on their side, aren't you? Bastard." 

"Wes!" Collins exclaimed. 

"Wes... calm down." Eric was staring at him. 

He turned back to the others. "None of you trusted me. Even my own father." He glared at Collins and jumped to his feet. "I'm a Ranger. I could destroy this building if I wanted to. And destroy all of you. You should be grateful I don't do it! Maybe someday I will!" He swept a furious look over all their shocked faces and turned to the door, slamming through it. 

The corridor lights disoriented him for a moment, sending fresh pain stabbing into his head. He started back toward his office, taking only a few steps before a hand grabbed his arm. Eric yanked him to a stop and swung him around, stepping face to face with him, looking furious. 

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he shouted. "Making _threats_? What's wrong with you?" 

Wes stepped back, his head starting to spin. Everything was beginning to blur together, the bright lights, Eric's loud and angry voice, the other people staring at him. He jerked his arm away and started to walk again, but somehow he ran into the wall, and leaned against it, grateful for the support. Then he was sliding down it, the floor coming up to hit him, his head so dizzy, so painful that he just wanted to curl up and lie there. 

He felt hands roll him over, heard Eric's voice again, shouting something, saw Eric's face above him, looking scared now, calling his name, then his father's face and voice, also fearful, until he closed his eyes and thankfully let himself slide down into darkness and quiet. 

* * *


	7. Homecoming

Wes, Eric, Mr. Collins, Dr. Zaskin, Taylor, Miller, Philips, Silver Hills and Bio-Lab belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, but I am not and do not expect to make money from this.  
Gaby, Emma, Angela, Gunn, the sisters, Alcott, and TransGenics are mine. 

Rated PG-13 : Strong sexuality; harsh language, moderate violence. 

* * *

* * *

Wes had been right, this was better than the Bio-Lab lunchroom. Eric frowned slightly as he looked around the restaurant, a very nice place, and expensive. The thought of Wes brought back the worry. But this was no time to be thinking about that. Looking at Angela, sitting across from him, he remembered Wes's disapproval of his reluctance to spend the extra money to go somewhere nice. For her it was worth it. He caught himself thinking that she lived up to her name, sitting there smiling at him, looking just like an angel. 

"Is something wrong?" she asked. "You look sad." 

"I'm still worried about Wes." 

"Of course." 

"He's supposed to go home from the hospital in the morning. I was going to go visit him again tonight but Mr. Collins practically ordered me to go home and get some rest." 

"And you called me instead. I'm very flattered." 

"I wanted to be with you. I missed you." 

"It's only been two days." 

"Two days too long." Eric paused, surprised and embarrassed at his own sentimentality. 

"Wes isn't going back to work, is he?" He saw a sharpness in her glance and wondered at it. 

"No, he'll stay home for at least a week or two. The doctors said no work, and no stress." 

"Do they know what's wrong with him?" 

"No. They did every test known to medical science, and couldn't find anything wrong. They think it's psychological, some kind of mental breakdown. But Wes was the sanest person I knew, before this started. He misses his old girlfriend -- the one who left -- but that's normal. I just can't see him suddenly losing it like this." 

Angela lowered her eyes and said quietly, "Has it occurred to anyone that this -- isn't natural? That maybe someone did it to him?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Well, maybe he was poisoned or something. Maybe someone gave him a drug." 

Eric stared at her thoughtfully. "The doctors would have found it in his blood, wouldn't they?" 

"I don't know. If they didn't know what to look for, maybe not." 

"As a Silver Guardians commander, he certainly has some enemies. It's worth looking into." 

She smiled brilliantly. "Good. And you should watch him. Make sure no one from Bio-Lab tries to give him anything." 

He reached out to take her hand. "It's generous of you to try to help my friend." 

"All I did was make a suggestion." 

"But you thought about it. You care about a complete stranger. You're a good person, Angela." 

She looked away. He thought for a moment she seemed upset, but put it down to modest embarrassment at the compliment. After a moment she looked back, smiling again. "How are you holding up, having to cover for Wes, on top of catching up with your own work?" 

He shrugged. "It's okay. Steve Miller is picking up a lot of the slack, and he did a great job while we were suspended. My biggest problem now is trying to find out who broke into Bio-Lab, and robbed our warehouse. Whoever they were, they probably haven't given up." 

"I'm sure they haven't. Don't you think it's likely they're a competitor?" 

"That's still a strong possibility. So far we don't have anything to go on. They didn't leave any fingerprints or DNA in either case. They killed their own men to keep them from talking. The police have identified the dead men but they're still working on trying to link them up with whoever's behind this." 

Angela was quiet for a few moments, then very softly she said, "They're terrible people. The ones behind it, the ones at the top, they never even see their victims. All they see is the money and power they can get." 

He watched her, a little puzzled at her words and the bitterness with which they were spoken. When she looked up again and smiled, he said, "Maybe we shouldn't talk about that. What have you been doing for the last couple of days?" 

"Going to work. I'm editing a book on genetics now. That's always been a special interest of mine." 

"Is that why you're always asking me about the mutants?" 

She laughed. "I suppose so. It would be so thrilling to actually meet one, after reading so much about them. Do you think that's possible?" 

He smiled. "I'm afraid not. They're gone now, for good." 

"You don't mean they're dead?" 

"No. They were criminals. They've been taken back where they came from, to pay for their crimes." 

"Were they really so bad, considering the kind of lives they must have had?" 

"From what I was told, there were plenty of mutants who got along fine where they came from. These ones just wanted power. There's no excuse for what they did, killing Commander Porter, trying to kill me and the other Rangers. And you must remember what they did to the whole city a year ago. People died in that attack. The whole city is still trying to get over it, still rebuilding. Bio-Lab has financial problems, and the Silver Guardians lost people. For a while it looked like we might not keep going. We're still struggling." 

She looked away, biting her lip. "I wasn't here when that happened. But it must have been terrible." 

"Yeah, it was." 

After another moment of silence, he beckoned the waiter. "Come on, let's get out of here." 

* * *

They were in his car this time, parked across the street from her building, Angela wrapped in his arms, her body warm and soft, her skin smelling clean and fragrant. He kissed her, losing himself in the sensations of closeness and desire. His hands moved over her shoulders, sliding down her back and arm. But before he could go further, she shifted and turned slightly, resting her head against his shoulder. He stroked her hair. 

"Eric, can I ask you something?" 

"Sure. Anything." 

"Where did the mutants come from?" 

He tensed slightly. "Why do you keep asking about that?" 

"I'm interested. I guess I just always wondered what it would be like, being different like that. Knowing people would be afraid of you, and hate you, if they knew what you can do. Even looking different, and having to hide it." 

Eric hugged her closer. "I understand. But I can't tell you where they came from, or where they went. Just that they're not coming back." 

"Did Bio-Lab make them? Please tell me the truth." 

He sighed. "I don't know why you keep thinking that. Bio-Lab was their main target. They almost destroyed us." 

"Maybe for revenge. For creating them." 

"No. I swear, on whatever you want me to swear on, Bio-Lab had nothing to do with it. And I'm absolutely sure of that." 

He felt her take a deep breath. Then she raised her head and kissed him unexpectedly. He responded, pulling her closer, then letting his hands start to wander. She let him caress her for a few seconds, then pulled back. 

"It's getting late. I'd better go." 

He stroked her cheek with his fingers and kissed the side of her neck. "Come home with me. Please," he said softly into her hair. 

"I'm sorry. Really." When he looked at her face he saw regret and a hint of sadness there. And again his passion subsided, leaving a more tender feeling. He smiled and said, "It's all right. I don't mind waiting." It was almost true. 

At her building door they kissed again, Eric holding her for a moment of closeness, enough to last him until next time. Then with a smile and a whispered "Good night," she disappeared inside. 

* * *

"Here we are." 

Wes looked out of the car window, squinting in the morning sun at the house where he had grown up. It was a welcome sight. He opened the door as soon as they stopped, stepping out and away from the hands that tried to support him. He didn't want to be reminded of his own weakness, of what had happened to him, and especially of how he had acted. As he recovered, the anger and depression had faded, although he could still feel them, like an undercurrent in his mind. He had started to suspect they had always been there, just buried beneath his consciousness, and that now he would always be aware of them in the future. 

"I'm all right. I can walk by myself." He went to the front door, forced to wait there when he remembered he didn't have his keys. Something else he needed to get back. Along with the rest of his life. 

Once inside he stopped in the foyer and looked around. Part of him wanted to go to his room and hide. But he'd spent the last five days cooped up in a hospital room, and suddenly he wanted to be outside. 

"Mind if I go out to the garden?" he asked his father. 

"Of course not. Can I tag along?" 

Wes smiled and nodded. He was starting to be almost amused by the way his father and Philips hovered over him, as if he'd go berserk again at any moment. Maybe that was a good sign, that his usual good humor was coming back. With Collins following, he headed out the back way. 

The garden was as beautiful as ever, even with its winter shortage of flowers. And the air was wonderful, the slight morning breeze ruffling his hair and bringing the faint smell of the ocean. It seemed to blow through some of the darkness still in his mind. Wes moved to a stone bench and sat down. Memory came back to him overwhelmingly, of sitting here with Jen, of kissing and holding her. He laid his hand lightly on the stone where she had sat. 

"Wes? Is anything wrong?" 

He looked up at his father, seeing the concern in his face. He smiled. "I was just thinking about Jen. We sat right here, that night after we captured Ransik. It was the first time we said we loved each other." He sighed. "I miss her." 

"Of course you do." 

"Do you still miss Mom?" 

Collins sat on the bench next to him and looked out toward the ocean. "Yes. I loved her very much, and I'll always miss her. But I've learned to live with it. With time, even the worst pain gets easier." He looked back at Wes. "Your mother died. Jen is still alive -- or will be, in the future, even though you'll probably never see her again. Be grateful for that much." 

"I am, Dad. I'll be fine." Wes paused for a few seconds. "Tell me about Mom. What she was like." 

"You've heard it all before." 

"Well, I want to hear it again." 

"All right." Collins took a breath and smiled. "We met in college. In an economics class. She asked me to help her study for midterms. I fell for her right away. She was beautiful, with long blonde hair and green eyes. And she was smart. She ended up helping _me_ with some of my classes." 

"And she helped you start Bio-Lab." 

"Right. She had some family money, and she trusted me with it. We started the company together. Even after she got sick, her advice was a big help." He stopped, looking out at the horizon again. Wes knew his father would not go on to the end of the story, when she had died after a two-year struggle with cancer, during the first stages of which he had been born. 

"Bio-Lab is one of the things she left behind. That's one of the reasons it means so much to me." 

"I know, Dad. It's started to mean a lot to me too." 

Collins turned to him with a smile. "That's good to hear. But you're the other thing she left me. And you're more important." He looked away again. "I wish the doctors had been able to find out what was wrong." 

"So do I. But -- you know the expression that you feel like a weight has been lifted off you? That's how I feel. Something was happening to me. I don't know what. But it's gone now. I know I'm getting better." 

"That's a weight off me too. I was so worried about you. When you collapsed like that… God, it was terrible." 

"Dad, I'm sorry for all the things I said. And especially for threatening you. I must have gone crazy." 

"You weren't yourself. The threats weren't as frightening as the way you had just become a different person somehow." Wes shivered, not only from the chilly air. "Come on inside. It's too cold to be sitting out here," Collins said. 

Wes nodded, and they got up and walked slowly back. At the door Wes turned for a last look. "It's good to be home," he said. His father put an arm around his shoulders as they walked in. 

* * *

Gaby was working late. She normally didn't believe in putting in more hours than she was paid for, which probably meant she would never get very far up the corporate ladder of success. But this was different. She was convinced that the break-in was connected to the computer hacking attempts. And people had died in that incident. Now she finally had proof of what she had suspected for some time. But it was potentially dynamite. Time to call in the cavalry. 

Minutes later she found Eric's office locked and presumably empty. Out with that damn girlfriend of his again, no doubt. She realized how late it was when she found Steve Miller's office in the same condition. Daryl Gunn was an early bird, he'd have gone home hours ago. And Mr. Collins would be home with his son. She had only one more person to try. 

Approaching Emma's office, she saw Wes's door open, and the lights on. She hurried toward it, expecting to find Emma inside. But what she saw stopped her short. It was Robert Taylor, standing at Wes's desk, holding something. As he started to turn she had the absurd impulse to run. _ He's the one who's someplace he shouldn't be,_ she told herself, and met his eyes as he saw her. Somewhat to her satisfaction, he reacted with a guilty start. 

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. 

"Looking for Emma. And you?" 

"Just thought I'd take this over to Wes. I'm sure he'd like to have it. And I think Emma's gone home." 

Gaby glanced at the object in his hand and stepped aside as he walked out. She watched thoughtfully as he disappeared down the hall. A quick check showed her that Emma was indeed not in. Briefly she considered calling her friend at home. But the morning would be soon enough. What could happen in one night? 

* * *

Wes could hear the conversation drifting up from below. They had a visitor, one whose voice he recognized. There was only one reason Taylor would be there. To pay a courtesy visit, and impress his father. With some reluctance he got off the bed, ran his fingers through his hair and started downstairs. 

Halfway down he stopped to watch them talking, feeling disgusted as he watched Taylor smiling and sucking up as hard as he could manage, only a few days after he had tried to turn Wes against his own father. Successfully, he remembered with a pang of guilt. 

"Wes! It's great to see you. You look fine," Taylor said with a big smile that Wes was sure was as phony as the rest of him. 

"Thanks. I'm much better. A little surprised to see you." 

"I thought the least I could do was to drop by and see how you're doing." 

"Well, thanks. But you shouldn't have." 

"Would you like a drink, Mr. Taylor?" Collins asked. "Or are you driving?" 

"No thanks. I just dropped by for a minute. And I brought this for Wes, from his office." Taylor was carrying something in his hand. He held it out to Wes. 

"Thanks!" Wes was surprised, and genuinely touched. Taylor had brought the picture of Jen he kept in his office. His favorite picture of her. "That was really nice of you." He caught a strange look on Taylor's face, but couldn't identify it, and it was gone almost instantly. And he was too pleased to worry about it. 

"Well, I'm glad to see you're better. I'll get going now." 

They said their goodbyes and walked Taylor to the door. Then Collins put his arm around Wes's shoulders and led him back toward the living room. 

"Feel like some TV? Or a snack?" Collins asked, laughing when Wes yawned instead of answering. "I think it's time for you to get to bed, young man." 

Wes smiled. "I guess you're right. You'd think I'd have had enough sleep. Seems like that's all I did in the hospital." 

"No one can sleep right in a hospital. Now that you're home, you'll be your old self in no time." 

"Sure, Dad. Goodnight." 

"'Night, son." 

Wes went up the stairs feeling more cheerful than he could remember being in weeks. In his room, he put the picture on his bedside table, where he could roll over and see her anytime he wanted. He sat on the bed, then laid down, too tired to get undressed yet. After a moment his eyes drifted shut, then snapped open again. He had felt it, a twinge of the old, horribly familiar headache. Fear trickled inside him, like ice water running through his heart. 

* * *


	8. Blowup

Wes, Eric, Mr. Collins, Dr. Zaskin, Taylor, Miller, Philips, Silver Hills and Bio-Lab belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, but I am not and do not expect to make money from this.  
Gaby, Emma, Angela, Gunn, the sisters, Alcott, and TransGenics are mine. 

Rated PG-13 : Strong sexuality; harsh language, moderate violence. 

* * *

* * *

_"Eric?"_ He instantly recognized the voice coming over his cell phone. Mr. Collins, tension and anxiety clearly audible in that single word. 

"Yes. What's wrong?" 

_"It's Wes. He's been in his room all day. Won't come out, and won't talk to me. I think the same thing's happening to him all over again."_ Now there was despair in his voice. 

"Shit." 

_"Can you come here?"_

"Of course. I'll be there as soon as I can get away." 

_"Please hurry. Eric -- I'm afraid of him."_

Eric took a second to absorb that. "I'll be there in ten minutes." After hanging up he turned back to the people he had been talking to, Miller and the owner of a jewelry store that had been robbed that morning. 

"Gotta go. It's an emergency." To Miller he added, "Take over here. I'll contact you as soon as I can." 

"Right." After a look at his face, Miller obviously decided not to even ask what the problem was. 

He ran out of the store and stood in the street indecisively for a moment, wondering whether to take his Guardian car or the TF Eagle. The full reality of what he had just heard suddenly hit, sending him into a moment of near panic. He raised his arm and morphed, then summoned the Eagle and took off. 

* * *

"Emma!" Gaby had spotted her friend in the hallway leading to her office. Emma waited for her to catch up and they walked together. "I looked for you this morning. You weren't in." 

"Yeah, with Wes still out I don't have a lot to do. So I took some time off." 

"I'm surprised you came in this late. The day's over already." 

"I had some things to do. And you know me, I like late hours." She took another look at Gaby. "Did something happen?" 

"The shit has hit the fan." Gaby smiled at Emma's expression of curiosity. "I'll tell you all about it." 

They entered Emma's office and sat down. Emma leaned her chin on her hand and raised an eyebrow. "I take one morning off and something exciting happens. Tell." 

"First of all, I've been working on the intrusions into our network servers and some of the workstations. And I finally got a solid suspect. I never did get anywhere with the stuff coming from the outside, they covered their tracks really well. But I'm still working on it. _But_ -- most of the activity lately has been coming from the inside." 

"Really? Someone working for Bio-Lab is spying on us?" 

"That's right. That's actually usually the case. Most of the damage from hacking is caused by insiders. This one used other people's offices a lot of the time, but he still had to log on to the network with his own username when he couldn't find a PC someone had left logged on. And he did a lot of stuff after hours, when the people who worked in those offices weren't in. It took me a little while to get personnel to cooperate and give me the attendance logs, but I tracked him down." 

"So I'm dying of suspense! Who is it?" 

"Promise not to repeat it? No one's supposed to know until the Gunn can, and I quote, 'deal with it.'" 

"I promise." Emma leaned forward eagerly. 

"It's Robert Taylor." She waited, smiling, for a response. 

"Taylor? Wow. I should have known. He's a sneaky bastard." Emma looked thoughtful, her brows drawing together. 

"I would have told Eric, but he's been out most of the day. Then I had to wait until after lunch for an appointment with the Gunn. He kept asking me if I was sure. As if I'd make an accusation like that without being sure." 

"Hmm." 

"And guess what, last night, after I put it all together, I came looking for you. And who did I see, poking around in Wes's office? Taylor himself." 

"What? What was he doing?" 

"He said he was going to bring Wes that picture on his desk. The one you said was of his long-lost girlfriend." 

"Oh my God." Gaby stared. Emma had turned pale, her eyes wide with shock. She jumped to her feet and ran from the room. Seconds later Gaby found her in Wes's office, standing in front of the desk, her fists clenching. When she turned, Gaby saw she was even paler, something like panic on her face. 

"It's gone," she said. 

"Yeah, I said Taylor took it…" 

"Not the picture. The feeling… the aura. It's gone. It must have been the picture." Emma was breathing hard. 

"Huh? What are you talking about?" 

Abruptly Emma seemed to come back to life. "Come on. We've got to go there. I just hope it's not too late." 

"Go where? What the hell is going on?" 

"We have to go to Mr. Collins' house. Wes needs us." Emma grabbed Gaby's wrist and started dragging her toward the door. 

"Wait a minute! We can't just barge in on them! What if Mr. Collins gets mad?" 

"Sure we can." Emma grinned. "Come on, where's your sense of adventure?" 

"It got bored and left. You still haven't told me what's going on." 

"No time. And you probably wouldn't believe me. But I need you to tell them what you just told me. Please, this is incredibly important. Trust me." 

Gaby sighed. "All right. Where do they live?" 

"I'll drive." Emma took off at a run. 

_I must be nuts._ Gaby charged after her. 

* * *

Eric shifted impatiently as he waited for the Collins' front door to open. His mind flashed back to the first time he had stood at this door, the night the Rangers had invited him to their farewell party. He had been nervous then too, for very different reasons. Since then he had been here many times, on both business and social occasions. Wes and Mr. Collins had gone out of their way to make him feel like almost part of the family. And now, if he couldn't stop whatever was happening to Wes, it could all be over. 

The door opened, revealing Philips, the butler. He looked upset. He also looked as if he had been fighting; his right eye was developing an impressive shiner. 

"Mr. Myers. Thank heavens. Come in." 

"What happened to you?" Eric demanded. 

"It was an accident." Philips looked uncomfortable and unhappy. 

"Did Wes hit you?" 

"I'm sure he didn't mean to." 

"Welcome to the club." Eric raised his hand to his freshly healed lip. He walked into the foyer quickly. "Where's Mr. Collins?" 

"He's upstairs. Outside Mr. Wesley's room." 

Eric went up the stairs two at a time. He found Collins slumped dejectedly on a chair outside Wes's bedroom door. He looked up as Eric saw him. 

"Eric! Thank God you're here." Eric noticed a bruise on his jaw. His own jaw tightened. 

"What happened?" 

"Wes was fine last night. This morning he wouldn't come downstairs, he won't come out of his room. He shouted and cursed at us when we tried to get him to at least eat something. The way he glared at me every time I opened that door -- he looks like he hates me. And he started to talk about using his morpher again, to destroy things. Philips and I went in and tried to take it away from him. He fought us. We can't handle him. You're the only one who could stand up to him, if he actually decides to use his Ranger powers." Collins stopped. He had kept his voice low, and he looked frightened and desperate. Eric couldn't blame him. 

"I'll try to talk to him." Eric went to the door. With a grim glance back at Collins he knocked softly. 

"I told you to leave me the hell alone!" 

"Wes. It's me. I just want to talk for a minute." There was silence for several seconds. 

"All right. Just for a minute," the answer finally came, the voice irritated. 

Eric opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind him. Wes was on the bed, propped against the headboard, wearing dark blue pajamas. His hair was uncombed, his face pale, and his eyes burned with anger. There was little sanity in that blue gaze, and almost nothing of the man he knew, as if a stranger had moved into Wes's body. Eric felt a chill of primal fear. 

"How are you doing?" he asked as calmly as he could. 

"Just swell. How are you?" 

"Could be better. Your father tells me you won't come out of here." 

"That's right. I like it in here." 

"Why? Why not make your father happy and at least talk to him?" 

"Make him happy? He hates me. So does Philips. They tried to take my morpher." 

"Well -- they just got a little scared." 

Wes grinned, a savage, feral expression that frightened Eric even more. "They should be afraid. So should you." 

"Me? Why?" 

"You hate me too, don't you?" 

"You know that's not true." 

"Yeah? And how do I _know_ that?" 

"I'm your friend, Wes." 

"Sure, you pretend to be my friend. Kiss up to the rich kid. Get in good with my dad. Try to take my place with him." 

"No!" 

"You think you can get him to let you take over Bio-Lab someday, instead of me." 

_"What?"_

"You think you deserve it more than I do. You think I'm just a spoiled rich brat who never had to work for anything. You look down on me. You always have." 

"Wes -- that's not true. Not anymore." But the accusations had once held considerable truth, enough to unnerve him now. 

Wes turned his face away. "Get out." 

"I'm trying to help you." 

"GET OUT!" Wes screamed. Eric jumped, and retreated out the door without stopping to think. 

In the hallway he stopped to lean against the wall and try to stop shaking. He looked around for Collins and heard his voice. A moment later he was standing at the top of the stairs looking down at Collins talking to two women. Emma and Gaby. He started down toward them. 

"I'm sorry. You can't see him," Collins was saying. "In fact, I'll have to ask you to leave." 

"I know you don't want us here," Emma said, her voice calm and level. "But you need my help. Wes is sick again, isn't he?" Collins and Eric traded a glance. "It started again last night or this morning, didn't it? After Taylor dropped by." 

"Taylor? What's he got to do with it?" Eric asked. 

"Everything. Gaby will explain." 

"Me? Explain what? I don't have any idea what's going on here!" 

"Just tell them what you told me, about Taylor." Emma stepped aside. 

"Well, okay." Gaby faced the two men. "I figured out who's been hacking our systems, or at least doing most of it. It's an insider. Taylor." 

"That slimy piece of shit," Eric muttered. 

"And last night I saw him in Wes's office, taking that picture he has on his desk." 

"The picture of Jen. He brought it over for Wes last night," Collins said. 

"Emma got upset when I told her about it." 

Eric said slowly, "Angela, my -- the woman I've been seeing -- said I should make sure no one brings Wes anything from Bio-Lab. She said someone was doing this to him." 

Before either of them could respond, they all jumped in alarm as they heard a bellow of rage come from above. Eric noted that Emma had disappeared as he bolted up the stairs. He saw her a moment later, backing out of Wes's room. As she turned to run in his direction, Wes appeared in the doorway, his face livid and twisted with fury. 

"You _bitch_! Give me back my picture!" As she passed him, Eric saw that she was clutching the picture of Jen. An instant later he stepped into Wes's path and was almost knocked down. 

"Goddam bitch! Come back here!" Wes screamed, struggling to get past. He slammed a fist into Eric's stomach, doubling him over, and broke away. Emma was running down the stairs. Wes started after her, but Collins had reached the upper level and blocked him, with Philips and Gaby right behind him. 

"Get out of my way," Wes snarled. They all looked terrified, but they held their ground. 

"Wes! You want to fight? Fight with me!" Eric yelled. Wes turned, his face enraged. Then exactly what Eric feared, happened. Wes raised his morpher and with a vicious smile tapped it, transforming in a burst of light into the Red Ranger. Eric shouted into his and morphed into the Quantum Ranger only a split second later. 

"Get out of here!" Collins, Philips, and Gaby stood, staring. "Go!" Eric shouted again. This time they ran. 

Eric turned back to Wes. They circled each other tensely. 

"Just like old times, huh, pal?" Wes said mockingly. 

"Wes, please. This isn't you." 

"Then who is it? It's me, _buddy_. The side of me that's not so pretty." 

"Wes. Just demorph and we can talk about this." 

"No! I want my picture back!" Wes sprang forward, whirling into a kick that knocked Eric off balance. He recovered almost instantly but Wes had dashed for the stairs, leaping over the railing to land lightly on the floor beneath. Eric followed him a moment later. 

Collins, Philips, and Gaby were huddled against the front door. Philips turned to pull it open. Collins pushed Gaby out ahead of him. But Wes was already on them; he grabbed Collins' arm and dragged him back, throwing him against the wall and pinning him there with one hand. The other hand now held his blaster, which he held at his father's head. 

"Don't come any closer, or I'll kill him," he said. Eric stopped a few feet away. 

"Wes, don't do this. You'll regret it the rest of your life." 

"You're both against me. Especially_ him_. He only cares about money, never about me." 

"Son, that's not true. I love you," Collins gasped. Wes's helmeted head turned toward him silently. 

"He's telling you the truth. And I'm your friend, whether you believe it or not," Eric added. 

"Yeah?" Wes turned back to him. "Prove it. If you're my friend, demorph. Trust me not to kill you. Right now. Or else." 

"Eric, don't. You can't risk it," Collins said. 

But Eric knew he had no choice. He couldn't take a chance with Mr. Collins' life, or let Wes murder his own father. And the deepest part of him refused to believe that Wes would kill him, even this twisted version of Wes. Slowly he raised his arm and said, "Power down." In a brief flash of light he demorphed and stood in his uniform again. 

Wes moved the blaster to point at him. "That was stupid," he remarked conversationally. 

"Wes. I have your picture. That's what you want, isn't it?" Emma had reappeared, and was slowly walking toward them from behind Eric. He saw she had the picture. It had been taken out of its frame. She held it up. 

"Bring it closer," Wes said. She did, until Eric raised an arm to stop her. 

"You don't really want to hurt anyone, do you?" she said softly. "It's just the pain in your head, and the thoughts that won't go away." 

"Shut up." He released his father to step closer to Eric and aim the blaster at his face, only inches away. "Get on your knees," he commanded. With a sick fear of what was coming, Eric obeyed, slowly kneeling on the floor. Wes nudged his forehead with the blaster. "You did this to me once, remember? I thought you were going to kill me. You laughed, like it was funny." 

"I remember. But I didn't shoot you." 

"You're sweating. Scared?" 

"No. I'm terrified." 

Wes stood unmoving for a few more seconds. Then he laughed, and lifted the blaster away. "You always were cool under pressure. Maybe I'll let you live." He turned back to his father. "I won't kill you, either. For now. Just be careful how you treat me." He grabbed the picture from Emma's hand and started back to the stairs. As he reached them, Eric raised his morpher. 

"Quantum Defender," he said softly. The powerful blaster materialized in his hand. Eric shot Wes in the back, sending him staggering against the banister. 

"Eric! What are you doing?" Collins cried. 

Ignoring him, Eric adjusted the Defender's power and shot again. To his relief, Wes's form shimmered and warped, leaving him demorphed but unharmed, gasping on the floor in his blue pajamas. Quickly he stepped over and grabbed Wes's left wrist, forcibly removing his morpher. Then he turned to look at the others. 

"He's all right. Help me get him back upstairs." 

* * *

Wes was on his bed, propped against the headboard, much as Eric had seen him before, except that now he was handcuffed as a precaution. He seemed to have lapsed back into depression, sitting turned away from them with his knees pulled up, his face dull and slack. All of them except Philips were in Wes's bedroom. Eric was in a chair next to the bed. Collins sat on the foot of the bed, watching Wes anxiously. Gaby, looking uncomfortable and out of place, was on a chair against the far wall. Emma paced near the door. 

"He'll be all right now," she said. 

"How do you know? Would you mind explaining exactly what's going on?" Eric asked. 

"As soon as the others get here." 

"What others?" 

"You'll find out. And I'm afraid you may not like it." 

"What are they going to do?" 

Emma smiled briefly at him. "Don't worry. We're all on the same side. I think we can help each other." 

Eric turned to Gaby. "Do _you_ know what she's talking about?" 

"I have no idea." 

Emma stopped. "They're here," she said softly. Through the open door they heard the doorbell ring, and Philips' voice as he answered, along with a woman's voice. Then footsteps on the stairs. A woman appeared in the doorway. 

Eric stood up. "Angela?" he asked in astonishment. Then he simply stared as she was followed by three more women, all identical to each other, and to her, except for one feature. Angela's hair was a silky black. Of the other three, the first had hair that was gleaming silver, the second unnaturally bright red, and the last had hair as green as Trip's had been. As Emma stepped forward to meet them, he saw that she also looked exactly like them, except for the hair and glasses. But he had never seen a resemblance between her and Angela, and still didn't. He felt a wave of disorientation and nausea. 

"Dana," Angela said softly, looking at the green-haired woman. 

"Right. Sorry about that." Dana smiled slightly. Eric felt a momentary touch of headache and dizziness. When it passed, he suddenly saw it, as if blinders had been lifted from his mind. They were _all_ identical, except for the hair. 

Emma stood with the others, and raised her hands to remove her glasses, and pull off a wig. She shook her real hair loose, letting it fall in a wave of shining gold. "These are my sisters," she said quietly. 

* * *


	9. Truth

Wes, Eric, Mr. Collins, Dr. Zaskin, Taylor, Miller, Philips, Silver Hills and Bio-Lab belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, but I am not and do not expect to make money from this.  
Gaby, Emma, Angela, Gunn, the sisters, Alcott, and TransGenics are mine. 

Rated PG-13 : Strong sexuality; harsh language, moderate violence. 

* * *

* * *

"All of us are mutants. We escaped from the laboratory where we were being kept and studied, and came here looking for the mutants you fought a year ago. I took my job at Bio-Lab, and we arranged for Angela to meet Eric, because we needed information and we didn't know if we could trust you." By mutual silent consent, they had decided to tell everything, and Emma was speaking for all of them. Angela listened, but her gaze went to Eric. He was sitting quietly. His eyes met hers for a moment, and then turned away to stare fixedly at the floor. 

Her own very limited power of empathy only worked with physical contact, but through her link with Emma she already knew all the people in the room, and could feel echoes of their emotions, could feel a hint of Eric's pain and anger as he started to guess part of the truth. She had expected this to happen eventually, and had dreaded it. The other men she had used her power on had never found out, and wouldn't have cared as much. But Eric's heart was so raw, and his pride was so important to him, that this might destroy a part of him. 

What was done was done, and Eric would have to deal with it. She saw that Wes was paying attention, his face calm and rational. Before Emma had started to talk, Dana had worked her magic, settling his mind and removing most of the effects of the device that had been used to attack him. At least that was something good they had accomplished. 

Emma was continuing. "We were engineered as part of an experiment by a company called TransGenics. T-Gen. I'm sure you know them." 

Collins nodded. "I've heard that they've engaged in some unethical practices, including some questionable experimentation. But I never suspected they would do something like this." 

"They did. We were created in a laboratory somewhere in South America, we're not sure where. They used eggs from South American women. Paid for hundreds, maybe thousands, and picked the best ones. After the eggs were fertilized, when the embryos had started to divide, they separated the cells to create identical siblings. We were the best set, the only one they kept. They named us Baby A, Baby B, and so on, and later gave us names based on those letters. Angela, Carrie, Dana, Emma, and Gina." She pointed to each one, including herself. 

"What happened to B and F?" Collins asked. 

"They died in early infancy. Side effects of the mutating treatment. We named them ourselves so we'd be able to remember them better. Betty and Fran. We never were given last names, so we made them up, like Cambiado and Mudado." 

"The word 'changed' in Spanish and Portuguese," Collins murmured. 

"Right. You're a literate man, Mr. Collins." Emma smiled and went on. 

"When we were children, they moved us here, to California, to a secret base in the mountains. We can show you where, but they probably demolished the place after we escaped. We don't know the details of the treatment that mutated us. One of the less harmful side effects was a random change in hair color. That's why we all have different color hair, and why some of us have hair that's -- unusual looking." She smiled at Dana and red-haired Carrie. 

Wes spoke up for the first time. "I knew another mutant with green hair. And one with pink." 

"What they wanted to accomplish was the development of mental abilities. Not intelligence, abilities like telepathy, telekinesis, and mind control. They wanted identical subjects so they could use variations on their treatment, and observe the differences between us, knowing they would be caused only by the mutating agent." 

"And did they succeed?" Collins asked. 

"Yes. Far beyond their expectations. Carrie is telekinetic. She can move things with her mind, just like the Carrie in the movie. Dana can control people's minds, make them see and feel and do what she wants them to, put thoughts in their heads. I'm empathic and telepathic. I can sense people's emotions and, to a limited extent, their thoughts. Gina is psychic; she can see things with her mind and sometimes predict future events, again to a limited extent. And we have a connection, all of us can communicate mentally with each other." 

"And Angela?" Eric asked softly. 

For the first time, Emma seemed uncomfortable. "Angela can make people like her." 

"Really? _Like_ her exactly how?" Eric's voice had gone even softer, with a dangerous tone. 

"She can make people -- feel attracted to her." 

"Meaning she can make them fall in love with her?" 

Angela answered him herself. "I can make a person feel a strong physical and emotional attraction, and I have a little empathic ability and a talent for knowing the right thing to say and do. I can't force a person to love me, but I can be hard to resist." 

"Don't sell yourself short. You were impossible to resist." Eric's voice was bitter. "And the mugging I saved you from? Was that just a setup?" 

"The muggers were real. We just arranged for it to happen with me as the victim, and for you to be there too." 

Eric looked at Dana. "I guess _you_ got me to go out to the parking lot at the right time. And you made me not see that she looks like Emma." 

"That's right." 

"I felt a headache and dizziness just now, when you took it off me. Is that what it feels like when you fiddle with my mind?" 

"Right again." 

"Now that I know what it feels like -- try it again and I swear, woman or not, I'll rip you apart." 

Carrie sneered. "You wouldn't be able to do anything about it." 

"It's okay, Carrie," Dana said with a cold smile. "Let him act tough if it makes him feel better." 

Eric shot her a look of pure hatred. Then he turned his face away, his expression stony. "I'd like to know what the purpose was." 

Emma took over again. "I had been working at Bio-Lab for several months, trying to get information about the mutants that were here last year. But I wasn't getting anywhere." 

"But you could read my mind. It should have been easy," Wes said. 

"It's not that simple. My telepathic ability is limited, and trying to read a mind is not exactly like reading a book. I can pick up surface thoughts, but they're usually pretty incomplete. And there's always this sort of buzz of emotions and other thoughts going on. I tried to bring it up in conversation, but you'd always change the subject and all I'd get was a few images and a sense of loss. I learned more about Jen than anything else. I couldn't afford to be too obvious about it. We needed a more direct way of finding out what we wanted to know. That was where Angela came in. She can usually get men to tell her anything." 

"I'll bet," Eric muttered. He looked at her again. "Why me? Why not Wes? Why not go right to the top, and seduce Mr. Collins?" 

Angela hesitated, reluctant to answer. "Are you sure you want to know? In front of everyone?" 

"Why not? You might as well humiliate me in _every_ possible way." 

She sighed. "All right. Wes and his father have both been in love. They know what it feels like, and how it's different from what I do. And their personalities aren't as -- as susceptible as yours. They would have been more resistant. It would have taken more time." 

"And I guess I was a real easy target." 

"If it's any comfort, you never told me most of what we wanted to know." But he turned away again and didn't respond. Wes and his father exchanged an uncomfortable glance. Gaby looked like she wanted to sink through the floor. 

"Maybe you could explain about what happened to Wes," Collins suggested. 

Emma sounded relieved. "Of course. This is what did it." She held out her hand, with a small, obviously broken piece of electronic equipment in it. After a moment she put it down on the night table. "You might want to analyze it. Maybe you can trace where it came from. T-Gen was working with this sort of thing when we left. I'm sure they're behind this, and behind the spying attempts and the break-in." 

Wes looked at it curiously. "What did it do?" 

"Someone -- probably Taylor -- put it in the frame of your picture of Jen, behind the photograph. It gave off a sort of mental radiation, which must have been tuned specifically to your brain. It acted as an irritant, causing your headaches and loss of control, everything that's been wrong with you. I could sense it, very vaguely, but I couldn't be sure what it was, and I couldn't find the source." 

She looked at Wes apologetically. "I'm sorry I didn't do anything about it before. I didn't realize how bad it was until the day you collapsed. After that we thought you'd be safe in the hospital, and at home. Then when Gaby told me Taylor was the spy, and he had taken the picture to give to you, it just clicked. I realized he must be bringing it here to make sure your recovery wouldn't last." 

"That bastard," Collins said. 

"With the device in your bedroom, you were exposed all last night, in your sleep. On top of the effects from before, it acted much faster this time." 

"I've never heard of a device like this," Collins said thoughtfully. "I don't understand how TransGenics could have technology this advanced." 

"We don't know the answer to that. They had a few things that as far as we know no one else has. Including the treatment that mutated us." 

"But why would Taylor want to hurt me? I don't understand it," Wes asked. 

"My guess is that he was hired, or bribed, or extorted into doing it by T-Gen. And from what I've heard, and sensed, from him, he had ambitions to take over Bio-Lab. All three of you would have been in his way. Under the influence of this thing, you became violent. Maybe Taylor was hoping you'd kill your father or Eric, or both. And of course that would mean you'd be out of the way too." 

"Taylor tried to turn me against my dad. Pretty successfully, too. I still can't believe the things I did." He turned to his father. "I'm sorry for everything, Dad." 

"It wasn't your fault, Wes. When I get my hands on Taylor... I've never felt like killing someone before. But I do now," Collins said grimly. 

"You won't get the chance, if I get to him first," Eric said. 

"Taylor's just a hired gun. The real enemy is T-Gen. We need to get evidence against them," Emma said. 

"But you're the best evidence. Why haven't you gone to the authorities and testified against them?" Collins asked. 

All of the sisters smiled. "How are we supposed to trust _human_ authorities?" Carrie asked. 

"And we don't much like the idea of the whole world knowing we're mutants. We'd be considered freaks. Dangerous ones. What kind of life would that be?" Emma said. 

"There was a group of mutants right here, a year ago. They disappeared, apparently off the face of the earth. What happened to them? How do we know the same thing won't happen to us if we come forward?" Dana asked. 

Collins, Wes, and Eric looked at each other. "What do you think?" Wes asked. "Should we tell them?" 

"Under the circumstances, I'd say they have the right to know," Collins said. 

"What the hell. They can just force us to tell anyway," Eric said. "I'm surprised they didn't do it already." 

"I put thoughts in a person's head, or create illusions. Forcing a person to do something against their will can do damage," Dana said coldly. "And contrary to your opinion, we're not completely heartless." 

"Yeah, right." 

Collins turned back to Wes. "What about Gaby?" 

"She's in this pretty far already. She might as well stay in. Emma trusts her, and I guess she should know," Wes said. The other two nodded. 

Wes faced the sisters again. "The mutants who were here a year ago were from the future. The year 2200. They were engineered as soldiers, most of them. A couple were mistakes, genetic improvements that had gone wrong. They were criminals, part of a mutant underground that wanted to start a war with the humans of their time. They came here to change history, to eliminate their enemies before they were created. 

"Four law enforcement officers followed them here. I teamed up with them, as the Power Rangers. Eric joined us later. It took us a year to capture all of them. My friends took them back to the future, to stand trial. That's why they disappeared." 

The sisters exchanged looks. "He's telling the truth," Emma said. They all looked disappointed and unhappy. "I was hoping so much we could find them. But I guess we're the only ones. There just aren't any more mutants." 

"I don't think you would have wanted to meet these guys anyway," Wes told her. 

"Maybe to you they were criminals," Carrie said hotly. "But they didn't ask to be created the way they were, any more than we did. Maybe they were just trying to defend themselves." 

"You remember what this city was like a year ago, after those mutants finished trashing it?" Eric said. "Innocent people died. The city still hasn't recovered. I don't care what kind of cause they were fighting for, there's no excuse for what they did." 

"All right, it won't do any of us any good to fight each other," Emma said forcefully. She looked at Carrie and Dana. "That goes for you too." 

"Right," Collins said. "We appear to have a common enemy. And you helped Wes. You said you thought we could help each other. What do you want us to do for you?" 

Emma took a deep breath before answering. "We have a problem. Besides being afraid T-Gen will track us down. We found out things from the scientists at the laboratory where we were kept. They never really realized how far our abilities had progressed. I could pick up some information from them, Gina sensed things, and Angela got a few of them to talk to her. Finally Dana tricked one of them into telling us everything, thinking he was reporting to his superiors." 

She paused before going on. "Another side effect of the treatment is genetic instability. They were searching for a way to correct it, but they hadn't been able to find anything. Our DNA is unstable. We don't know exactly what to expect, but we've started to feel some symptoms already. From what they told us, in a few years we'll be dead. 

"That's probably something T-Gen was looking for when they attacked you. They want a way to stabilize the effects of their mutating process. They must have thought you had information they could use." 

She looked out over their faces. "We were hoping you had engineered the other mutants, or could lead us to whoever had. We thought maybe we could find someone who could help, at least tell us exactly what's going to happen to us. But now... unless you have some way to contact your friends in the future..." 

"No," Wes said quietly. "They took everything back with them except our morphers and my vectorcycle, including their communicators. Too dangerous to leave their technology here, or to have any further contact. Even if we could reach them, they probably wouldn't want to interfere with history by helping you. I'm sorry." 

They all sat silently for a few moments. Finally Collins said, "I think that's enough for tonight. We're all tired, especially Wes. Tomorrow we can start thinking about what we can do about T-Gen, and to help you." 

"Good idea," Wes said. "Are we all together in this?" He looked at Eric. 

"Do I have a choice?" 

"There's always a choice." 

Eric stood up. "I'm in. But for your sake. Not theirs." With a hard look at the sisters, he stalked out of the room. 

Wes looked at Gaby next. "Whatever I can do, I'll do," she said. 

"We're all in, and grateful for your help," Emma said for the sisters. 

* * *

Gaby walked slowly through the main hallway of the Collins' house. She had found Mr. Collins and said goodnight, and gotten slightly lost on the way back to the front door. This house was _big, _and impressive. She admired a row of paintings hung along the wall. Then a shadowy form caught her eye as she passed a balcony overlooking the pool and a garden, softly illuminated in the night by hidden outdoor lamps. She hesitated, afraid he wouldn't appreciate the intrusion, but the dejected lines of his shoulders demanded that she at least try to help. She opened the glass door and stepped out, shivering slightly in the winter air. 

"Eric?" He was hunched over the balcony railing. She saw his dark head lift, and turn enough for her to see his profile. 

"Don't worry. It's not enough of a fall to kill me." 

"I... Are you all right?" 

"No." 

She stood, completely at a loss for anything to say. After a few moments his voice came again, so soft he almost seemed to be talking to himself. 

"Are they gone?" 

"Emma's outside. The others left." When he was silent again she went on awkwardly. "I'm sorry, about what happened with your... with Angela." 

"I really thought I loved her, and she loved me. What an idiot I am." 

"Don't say that. It's not your fault." 

"Isn't it? She was right. I was easy for her because I've never loved anyone, not even my parents." 

"That's not true. I mean -- I could see how much you care about Wes, and his father." 

"It's not the same thing." 

"You risked your life for them. I think that's love." 

His shadowed face turned toward her, watching her for a moment. "Maybe," he said softly. Then he turned away again. "Sorry, but I'd like to be alone right now." 

"It's okay, I understand. Emma's waiting to give me a ride home anyway. Goodnight." She closed the balcony door, taking with her the lonely image of him leaning on the railing, staring into the darkness again. 

A minute later she was outside, getting into Emma's car. She sat back and closed her eyes as they started off. They moved along the long, tree-lined driveway that wound away from the house toward the main road. 

"Is Eric all right?" Emma asked. 

"How did you... Oh, right. He's pretty upset. Can't blame him. And that guy's got some serious problems." 

"I know. I didn't like having Angela do that. But the others thought we had to." She glanced at Gaby and paused for a moment. "Are we still friends?" 

Gaby looked at her. "Were you trying to get information from me, too?" 

Emma smiled. "Nope. You didn't know anything." 

"That's for sure. I'm not sure I want to know everything I found out tonight." 

"Poor Gaby. I'm sorry I dragged you into this." 

She sighed. "I guess you had no choice." 

"You're not angry that I never told you the truth?" 

Gaby grimaced slightly. "I don't know. I kind of wish you had trusted me." 

"I'm sorry. We're so used to hiding what we are, it's hard to be honest with anyone." 

"Forget it. I'm too tired to be angry anyway." 

Emma looked at her again. "There's not many humans who'd be willing to be friends with a mutant. Especially one like me. Most people would be afraid, or embarrassed, at the thought of me reading their minds." 

Gaby shrugged, a little uncomfortably. "I can't say I'm exactly happy about it. But I think it must be worse for you. Knowing every mean little thought anyone has about you, or other people. Always knowing when someone's angry with you, or bored, or doesn't like you, even when they're trying to be polite." 

Emma grinned. "You know, you're pretty perceptive, for a human." 

"You're okay yourself, for a mutant. And to answer your question, yes, we're still friends." 

* * *


	10. Consequences

Wes, Eric, Mr. Collins, Dr. Zaskin, Taylor, Miller, Philips, Silver Hills and Bio-Lab belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, but I am not and do not expect to make money from this.  
Gaby, Emma, Angela, Gunn, the sisters, Alcott, and TransGenics are mine. 

Rated PG-13 : Strong sexuality; harsh language, moderate violence. 

A warning: Part of this chapter really earns the story's PG-13. It may be disturbing to some readers. 

* * *

* * *

Wes opened his eyes to darkness and quiet. He blinked a few times, then raised his hands to his face, rubbing it and scrubbing his hair back. Then he sat up, a little clumsily, hampered by the handcuffs still on his wrists. He had fallen asleep almost as soon as the others left the room. Now he identified the cause of his wakening. He was hungry. Extremely hungry. Naturally, since he hadn't eaten anything all day. He turned toward the door, hoping his father hadn't locked him in. 

The sight of a human form on the armchair next to the bed startled him. There was just enough moonlight shining through the bedroom windows to allow him to see and identify the face, which was watching him, silently. 

"Eric?" 

"Yeah. Are you okay?" 

"I guess so. Tired. But the headache's gone." 

"Good." 

"What are you doing here?" 

"Your father was going to sit here and watch you all night. I think he's been through enough, so I said I'd stay. I didn't really feel like going home, anyway." 

"What about your birds?" 

"I called my neighbors to take care of them." 

"Oh. Sorry." 

"For what?" 

"You're sitting in a chair instead of sleeping in your own bed. Because of me." 

Eric sighed. "Not your fault." 

"And I'm sorry for all the things I did. Acting like a lunatic, holding a blaster to your head, shouting at you, hitting you... I'm just sorry." 

"Again, it's not your fault." 

"You don't understand. All that stuff came from inside me. Like I said, the other side of me. I have all that _anger_ in me... and it all just came pouring out." 

"Everyone has a side like that. Everyone has a lot of anger they keep locked up. And even with that device affecting you, you didn't really hurt anyone." 

Wes looked away. "I tried to kill you and Dad." 

"But you didn't. You chose not to." 

"You've taken a lot of crap from me the last couple of weeks. I can't believe you didn't give up on me." 

He saw Eric smile. "It's nothing compared to all the shit you took from me in the past. And I wasn't under mind control." 

Wes smiled in spite of himself. "Listen, I'm starving. Are you hungry?" 

"A little." 

"Let's raid the kitchen." He held up his handcuffs. "Can you take these off?" 

"Your father didn't take them off?" 

"I guess he misplaced his handcuff keys." 

Eric smiled again, got out his key and unlocked the cuffs. "How about my morpher?" Wes asked. 

"In the morning, if you're good. I don't know where it is." 

After Wes made a quick trip to the bathroom, they both padded downstairs. Eric had taken off his boots, along with the jacket and equipment from his uniform, and they moved almost silently, Wes deactivating the burglar alarms. In the kitchen, Eric sat at the table while Wes inspected the contents of the refrigerator. 

"Sandwiches okay? Ham and cheese? Turkey? Peanut butter?" 

"Whatever. Doesn't matter." 

Wes put a couple of sandwiches together, put out soda and glasses, and sat down, aware of Eric's eyes watching him. "You're still looking at me like I'm going to explode any second." 

"Actually, I'm enjoying the feeling of _not_ expecting you to blow up." 

Wes smiled and picked up his sandwich. He was too hungry to talk, and they ate in silence for a few minutes. Eric cut his sandwich in half, and put down the first part after a few bites. Not typical of him, he usually ate everything in sight. Seeing Wes staring at his plate, he wordlessly shoved it over with the untouched half. When he was finished, Wes got up to get an apple, and settled down to eat it more slowly. 

"Eric... I'm sorry about Angela too. That was a rotten thing for them to do. You must feel terrible." 

Eric smiled. It didn't reach to his eyes. "I'm getting over her spell or whatever. I'm fine now." 

"Still..." 

"Just drop it, okay?" 

"Okay. Listen, why don't you sleep in one of the guest rooms? No reason you should sit in a chair all night." 

"I told your father I'd stay with you." 

"Then you sleep in the bed. I'll sit in the chair." 

Eric snorted. "No way in hell." 

"Sleep in the bed with me?" 

"Even _less_ way in hell." 

They both grinned. Wes finished his apple in comfortable silence. 

"Tell me about Jen. What was she like?" 

The question surprised Wes. "You knew her." 

"Not really. Only spoke to her a few times." 

"Well... she was very strong. Very determined. Hated to make a mistake. Very loyal. A little moody sometimes. And intense. Whatever she did, she put _everything_ into it." 

"_Whatever_ she did?" 

He looked up at Eric and smiled. "Get that look off your face." 

"Can't blame a guy for thinking." 

"Not if you're thinking about Jen." 

"You know who I liked? Katie." 

"_Katie?_" 

"Sure. What's wrong with that? She was sweet, and beautiful. And she kissed me, when we said goodbye." 

"Just on the cheek." 

"Still a kiss. I'll take what I can get." 

Wes grinned. "Katie never hugged you, did she?" 

"No. Why?" 

"It could be a painful experience. You remember how strong she was?" 

"I remember her picking up cyclobots and tossing them around... Yeah." 

"When she felt affectionate, she got carried away a little. Let's just say I don't think you'd survive your first night together." 

Eric laughed. "It might be worth it. What a way to go." 

The sound of their laughter died away in the large kitchen. Wes watched Eric's face fall back into harsh lines of unhappiness. "Eric..." he started. 

Eric stood up. "You should get back to sleep." Reluctantly, Wes got up and followed him upstairs. 

When he was back in bed with the lights out, and Eric curled up in the chair under a blanket, Wes stared toward the ceiling, feeling sleep creeping back up on him. He blinked it away for another moment. 

"Eric? You awake?" 

"Yeah." 

"Ever been to a pajama party?" 

"That's for girls." 

"Maybe. Anyway I feel like we're having one right now." 

"Jesus. Go to sleep." 

"Eric..." 

"What?" 

"I'm sorry about what happened to you, whether you want my sympathy or not. I wish there was some way I could help." 

Eric took so long to answer that Wes had started to feel sleepy again. "Thanks," he finally said. "You are helping. Now shut up and go to sleep." 

"Okay. 'Night, Eric." 

"Goodnight, Wes." 

* * *

The next day was a busy one for Eric, a day he would rather not have faced at all, let alone after spending the night in a chair. It started at Bio-Lab where he checked in with Miller, and continued at the jewelry store where his investigation had been interrupted. Then it was back to Bio-Lab for a meeting with Gunn, at which he briefed the Bio-Lab internal security chief on the situation, and now finally to the Collins house for another meeting. 

As soon as he had come in the door, he had seen her, standing in a group with her sisters, that face he couldn't get out of his head multiplied by five, all of them looking at him, with expressions ranging from contempt to sympathy. Angela had stared at him, her face blank and controlled. He had stared back coldly for a moment and walked by, feeling her gaze like heat on his back. 

Now he sat at the Collins' dining room table, with Mr. Collins, Wes, Gunn, and the sisters. Angela was watching him, but he looked away, every nerve jumping. He gazed blindly at his hands, resting on the table in front of him, acutely aware of her presence, so filled with anger and misery that he thought he might explode so violently he'd put Wes to shame. 

She hadn't said anything, letting Emma and Dana speak for them. But he could hear her soft voice in theirs, they were so similar. He wondered if she would ever try to talk to him again, if she cared about what he felt, if she had ever cared for him at all. Or if he had been nothing to her, only a source of information, only a tool to be used. 

"Eric?" 

With a start he realized he had no idea what the others were talking about. "Sorry," he said. "What was the question?" He saw Wes give him a worried glance. 

"I asked if you think we should confront Taylor now," Collins repeated. 

"I think we should let him and the people he's working for think that Wes is still sick. Spread rumors that he's not coming back. Give them more rope, and see what they do. It's not Taylor that's the main problem. But when the time comes, just leave him alone with me for half an hour." He had a brief but satisfying vision of smashing Taylor's face in. 

"We don't have much to go on now," Gunn said. "The police and Silver Guardians are still investigating the break-in and the robbery of our warehouse. I agree that we should hold off, and let them think their plan's working. It might prevent more attacks on you and Wes, Mr. Collins." 

"Wes, you remember Lender, the guy Taylor recommended for Gaby's job? I sensed something wrong about him. That's why I didn't want you to hire him. You might want to investigate him, too," Emma suggested. 

"Good idea. Eric, you may be a target, if Taylor is trying to take over at Bio-Lab." 

"I can take care of myself. If I don't keep up my usual routine, it'll tip them off." 

Wes looked at Gina. "You can see the future. Can't you tell what T-Gen is going to do, so we can be ready for them?" 

She looked at him nervously and answered in a soft, shy voice. "I can't really do much. I can only see a few hours into the future, most of the time, and only when someone I know is involved. Sometimes when someone asks me a question, I'll get a feeling about the answer, but it can be hard to interpret. And sometimes it just doesn't work. I'm sorry." 

"Can you tell if anyone in this room is in danger from them?" 

She hesitated. "It could be. But I don't know who, or when. Maybe I'll get more as the time gets closer." 

Wes sighed. "Well, thanks." 

"Maybe that will be a help," Collins said. "Other than that… we have to wait for them to make the next move. I guess that's it for now." 

Everyone stood up and prepared to leave. Eric felt a touch on his arm and looked up to see Wes next to him. 

"Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine. Why shouldn't I be?" 

"For one thing, you look exhausted. For another…" he jerked his head slightly in Angela's direction. Eric risked a glance and saw her go through the dining room door. 

"I told you, I'm over her." 

Wes eyed him with concern and skepticism. "Sure you are." 

"I've gone through a lot worse than this. So have you. Don't worry about me." 

"Okay. Are you staying for dinner?" 

"No. I'm not very hungry. And I could use some sleep." 

"Yeah, I'm sure you could." 

"How are you holding up?" 

Wes smiled. "Good. Still a little tired. But it feels great to know what was wrong. And to know it's gone." 

Eric gave him an answering smile. "Glad to hear it." 

"See you tomorrow?" 

"Yeah. See ya." 

He caught himself looking for her as he walked out. But she was gone. He told himself he was glad. 

* * *

Angela sat in her car, waiting for him to come home. Gina had warned her not to come here tonight. She said something unpleasant would happen. But Angela had no illusions. She expected 'unpleasant' would be an understatement. But she felt an obligation to see Eric, and try to make some kind of peace with him. 

She watched as he drove up and parked, got out of her car as he locked his and started up the walk to his front door. She called his name and saw his back stiffen. For a moment she thought he might ignore her. But then he turned, his face hard and blank. She walked up to face him. 

"I need to talk to you. I want to explain." 

"I think I understand already." 

"Then call it an apology." 

"Fine. You've apologized. Now go home." 

"Eric... won't you let me come in?" 

A half smile appeared on his face. "All the times I asked you to come home with me. And now you're here. But it's not quite what I imagined." He waved toward the door. "Come on in." 

Inside, she looked around while he locked the door. It was small, and the furniture was cheap and old, but it was clean, and neater than most single men's homes. She was surprised to see Eric had pets; there were two small birds in a cage hanging in the corner. 

"Have a seat." 

She sat on the couch and watched him take off his equipment and jacket. He wore a close-fitting black tee-shirt underneath, revealing an impressively muscled body. He was well aware of the effect, judging by the slight smile on his face as he caught her looking. It touched her with unease. He sat down at the other end of the couch. In the light, she could see the signs of fatigue on his face, and wondered if she was responsible. 

"Well?" he demanded. 

"Like I said, I want to apologize." 

"You apologize. Doesn't mean much." 

"Maybe not. But I didn't have to come over here tonight. It's very difficult for me. You could at least appreciate that." 

"Thanks. That's really big of you." The words were full of sarcasm and anger. 

"You heard our story. We needed information. You were the best way to get it. I'm sorry you were hurt. We all are. But we did what was necessary. You might have done it yourself, under the same circumstances." 

He smiled a little again, his eyes moving over her. "I don't have the right equipment." He moved a little closer to her on the couch. 

"You know what I mean." 

"I understand your reasons. It doesn't make me feel any better." His voice had taken on a silky quality. He moved closer still. 

"Most men don't react this way. Most men don't get so much of an -- emotional attachment." As soon as it was out she knew it was the wrong thing to say. But the combination of the attraction she had always felt for him and her growing uneasiness were setting her nerves on fire. 

"Oh, that makes me feel a whole lot better." There was a hard glitter of anger in his eyes. 

She stood up. "I'd better go." As she turned to the door he was up instantly, blocking her way. She stepped back. 

"Don't go yet. We're not done," he said, his voice soft and that strange smile on his face. It sent a chill of alarm through her. 

"What do you mean?" She backed away again as he stepped closer, and found herself with her back to the wall. 

"I have a few things to say to you." As she tried to move past him, he reached a hand to the wall next to her, leaning on it. "What's the matter?" he asked, in that same soft voice. "Don't tell me you're afraid of me." He touched her hair, letting a few strands trail through his fingers. 

"No. Of course not." 

"Good." He reached the other hand to the wall on her other side, trapping her. "I just wanted to tell you exactly what you did to me." 

"I know what I did." 

"Do you? You used me. You heated me up when you wanted to know something, then you cooled me off when you didn't want to give me anything. You were good at it, you played me like an instrument. Turned me on and off just like a fucking light bulb." His eyes had narrowed. "You had me under control every second. Never had to dirty yourself by sleeping with a mere human." 

"I'm not like that. I've been with human men." Again she knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say. 

He smiled, eyes half closing, leaning so close she could feel the heat of his body. "Then I guess it was just me you didn't want." 

"I wanted to. But I thought it would just make things worse, when you found out the truth." 

He smiled again. "Well. I know the truth now. And God help me, I still want you. So how about it?" 

"What are you talking about?" 

"You know what I mean. I think you owe it to me." He was closer, his body almost touching hers, their faces only inches apart, and now he bent his head, his breath hot in her ear, sending a shiver through her. "Give me something good to remember you by." 

"I... I don't think it's a good idea..." She heard her own voice shake. There was another spark of anger in his face, quickly hidden. 

He looked at her, eyes narrowing but mouth smiling thinly, his voice bitter. "I knew you'd say no. You're just like Dana and Carrie. Cold and heartless. You never gave a shit about me." 

She raised her chin in defiance. "I didn't say no. If that's what you really want -- go ahead and do it." 

An instant later she felt another twinge of alarm as he grinned wolfishly. Then he was kissing her, not the way he did before, but hard, with no trace of affection, his tongue trying to force her mouth open. One hand went behind her head, the fingers winding in her hair and gripping, the other pulling her closer as he moved forward, pressing her into the wall, grinding his body against hers. Then his hands moved over her, not caressing, but grasping roughly. Through their physical contact, she felt a wave of his pain and overwhelming rage, and had a sudden sense of the danger she was in. Frightened and repulsed, she tried to push him away. 

For a long moment she felt real panic, as her struggles had no effect against his strength. She realized her power was also useless; what he was feeling had little to do with desire. Then he let her go, so suddenly she almost lost her balance. She leaned against the wall for support as he took a few steps away and turned his back, fists clenched and chest heaving. 

"Go on, get out," he said, his voice now raw and strained. 

She ran for the door, fumbled with the lock and yanked it open. Just as she went through it she heard his voice again. 

"I'm sorry." 

* * *


	11. Aftershock

Wes, Eric, Mr. Collins, Dr. Zaskin, Taylor, Miller, Philips, Silver Hills and Bio-Lab belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, but I am not and do not expect to make money from this.  
Gaby, Emma, Angela, Gunn, the sisters, Alcott, and TransGenics are mine. 

Rated PG-13 : Strong sexuality; harsh language, moderate violence. 

* * *

* * *

Gaby sat down at her desk, tempted to close the door. But of course that would be unusual. And she had to act as normal as possible. With an inner sigh she turned to her computer, entered her password, and opened the file containing her report on Robert Taylor. Tracking him down had been tedious, but fun. Writing reports was just tedious. 

It had been three days now since her adventure at the Collins house with Emma. Three days of waiting for something to happen, a situation that was increasingly nerve-wracking. They had agreed to give the impression that Wes was getting worse, and Emma and Gaby were spreading the rumor that he was going to be committed, and that Mr. Collins was too upset to return to work. Eric was even more silent and withdrawn than usual, responding to questions with curt and sometimes rude refusals to answer. Either he was a great actor or, more likely, the situation with his ex-girlfriend was on his mind. 

She looked up at the sound of a soft knock, and saw Emma in the doorway, her smile not as bright as usual. When Gaby greeted her she walked in and sat down. 

"Mind if I hide in here for a while? I'm getting tired of people asking about Wes, and looking at me sympathetically. And I could use a break." 

"Of course I don't mind." Gaby watched her sit, slump tiredly, and rub her face. 

"Emma… Do you mind a snoopy question?" 

"You're curious about us." 

Gaby grinned. "You read my mind." 

Emma laughed. "Not really. I just felt curiosity. What would you like to know?" 

"Well… what's it like? Being telepathic." 

Emma shrugged. "What's it like not being telepathic? It's just the way I am." She looked at Gaby and smiled. "All right. I wouldn't call it telepathy, really. It's more feeling people's emotions than reading their thoughts. It's a pain, most of the time. Like you said, I know every nasty thing people feel about me. And everyone does it, they can't help it, no matter how nice they are or how much they like me. And I feel like a peeping tom a lot of the time. Not to mention it's distracting as hell. I try to block it out as much as I can." 

"It must have advantages." 

"Only if you're a spy or something. I wish I didn't have it." 

"What was it like for you? I mean, for all of you, when you were in that laboratory?" 

"I guess we were treated well enough. But we were prisoners. At first we didn't even know the difference, since that was the way it had always been. But then… when they brought us from South America, we were about twelve years old. They flew us in on a private airplane. I remember looking out the window. The whole world was down there, and we had never seen it. Never been outdoors before, never been with people except guards and the scientists supervising us. It was the first time we realized how trapped we were. After that, I guess we always just assumed we'd try to escape someday." 

Gaby looked at her, trying to imagine what those five kids must have felt. "It sounds so lonely." 

"We had each other. But you're right." 

"How did you escape?" 

"Gina knew when it was the right time. I could sense the guards before we ran into them, and Dana made them go to sleep. Gina and Carrie opened the doors. Carrie took care of the outside guards. We ran through the woods outside the laboratory. It was strange being outside, so beautiful, but scary too. They sent a helicopter after us, but Carrie disabled it. Gina knew which way we should go, and we got to a highway. Dana made a truck driver stop and get out to take a leak. Then she made him not see us when we got in the back." 

"And what did you do then?" 

"I had picked things up from the scientists and guards about the mutants in Silver Hills. Then Angela got some of them to tell her more. That's why we came here. When we got here… well, we did some things we're not proud of, to survive. Dana and Angela have ways to control people, and they got us some money and a place to live. Then when we'd had time to adjust, some of us got jobs." 

"And you got this job." 

"Yeah. Actually Dana made Wes think he needed an assistant, and got him to hire me. I started about six months ago. I did it to find out about the connection between Bio-Lab and the mutants. But I really got to like it. And to like Wes, and his father, and Eric." They sat silently for a few moments, until Emma added, "I guess I'll have to leave after this." 

"Why?" 

"Everyone who knows about me will be uncomfortable around me now." 

Gaby stared at her. "I'm not uncomfortable around you. At least not much. And I don't think Wes would be. Maybe you should give it a chance." 

"No. I got this job under false pretenses. As soon as this is over, I'll leave." 

"I'm sure Wes would be sorry to lose you." 

"After this I don't know about that. And there's Eric, too." 

"Yeah. I guess he would have a problem, because you look like Angela. But he could get over it." 

"I don't know. He's in pretty bad shape. I don't want to make it worse." She was quiet for a moment. "Angela blames herself. She went to see Eric a couple of days ago. She was pretty upset when she came home, but she won't tell us what happened." 

"He's looked like shit for the last two days." 

"You're right." Emma looked at her with a faint smile. "You really like him, don't you?" 

"He's okay, I guess." 

"I'm serious. I know about these things." 

"I admit I think he's attractive. I do like him. But face it, he can be hard to get along with. Not to mention moody and depressed half the time. And I've heard things about his temper. I've got my own problems. He'd probably make me miserable." 

"Maybe you'd be the woman to change him." 

"People don't change. Not that much, anyway. Not for someone else." 

"Keep an open mind. We're not always logical about love." 

"I know. But I can try to be practical. Guys like that are only exciting and romantic in fiction." 

"You're too critical. Remember, you've seen him at a bad time in his life. He's not always like this." 

"Maybe. I guess I'll find out. But you should talk. I still think you like Wes." 

Sadness crossed Emma's face. "Even if I did, it would be impossible. What human man would take the risk of being with one of us?" 

"You might be surprised. Like you said, Wes is a pretty nice guy." 

"It won't happen anyway. I can tell he's still in love with Jen, and always will be. Gina says his fate is with her. One of her few long-term predictions, although I don't see how it's possible." She stood up and smiled. "Anyway, I'd better get back. Thanks for listening." 

"Anytime. See you later." 

* * *

The house was getting as bad as Bio-Lab. Wes sat at another meeting in the Collins' dining room, listening to his father and Dr. Zaskin, and keeping an eye on Eric. His friend sat stonily, staring at the tabletop, looking even worse than he had two days before. He had barely responded to their greetings when he had come in, not even looking at Wes. As much as he had grown used to Eric's moods, he had never seen him like this. 

"Sorry to drag you out here, Michael," his father was saying. "It's rather inconvenient that Wes and I can't show our faces at Bio-Lab, but necessary." 

"No problem at all. I like coming here. It's a nice change of scene." 

"How are things going?" 

"Great. We've gotten started on researching the sisters' condition. The blood and tissue samples they've given us are fascinating." He went on, quickly getting into details none of the others understood, as enthusiastic as always about his scientific work. 

Wes winced a little inwardly and glanced at Eric again. He had looked up at the mention of the sisters. Wes would have preferred to leave him out of a meeting including this particular topic, but his father didn't believe in letting personal problems interfere with work. 

"Can you do anything for them?" Eric asked unexpectedly.

Zaskin looked at Wes and then Collins, suddenly seeming nervous. "Actually, I think I can. But you may not like it." 

"Why not?" Collins asked. 

"Well… you remember the Venomark serum." 

"Yes. I told you to turn in your notes and files, and destroy the samples." 

Wes's interest sharpened. Venomark had been one of the mutants brought from the future, a particularly nasty one, who had poisoned hundreds of people, including Wes's teammates, leaving them dying. Fortunately, working with Bio-Lab, they had been able to reproduce a serum that had been -- or would be -- used in the future as a cure, and had saved all the victims. Then Wes had successfully persuaded his father to abandon research on the serum, which did not belong in this time, and would cause damage to the timestream if it continued to be used. 

"Well. I kept copies. And I didn't destroy all the samples." There was silence for a few moments. 

"You kept it? That serum mustn't be used! You have to destroy that stuff," Wes said. 

"Not to mention you disobeyed my orders," Collins added. 

Zaskin faced them resolutely. "I'm sorry. I haven't used the notes or the samples, and didn't intend to. But I'm a scientist. I don't just throw away knowledge, no matter what the reason is. And now I think the serum could save those women." 

"Explain that," Collins said. 

"In my initial research, I discovered the Venomark poison causes deterioration of the DNA, among other things. The serum acts to cure it partially by reversing those changes and stabilizing the DNA. The sisters show signs of DNA damage which are very similar to the effects of the poison. I think the serum could help them." 

"Wes?" Collins asked. "What do you think?" 

"I don't know," Wes said. "That serum shouldn't exist in this time. We'd be interfering with history. This may be one of the things it can do that Jen warned me about." 

"You used it before to save your friends," Eric said. "I think we need to use it again now." 

"That was a different situation." 

"Different how? Because they were your friends?" 

"If all those people had died, it would have changed history more than using the serum did." 

"How is helping those women going to change history?" 

"Who knows? That's the point." 

"You're probably right, in theory," Collins said. "But are you really willing to make the decision not to help them?" 

"You're the one who was always talking about changing our own destiny, making things better," Eric said. 

Wes hesitated. "Maybe you're right. I don't know if I could just let them die, or whatever might happen to them. Especially after they helped me." 

Collins turned back to Zaskin. "Since you kept the serum, I don't see how we can avoid using it in this case. But it has to be under strict secrecy. You can treat the sisters, but don't tell them where it came from. And I don't want any more research done on it." 

"Yes, sir." 

They went on to discuss the other work Zaskin was supervising at Bio-Lab. Wes had little interest, and apparently the same was true of Eric, who returned to glumly contemplating the tabletop. When the meeting ended he stood up and started out almost immediately. Wes hurried to catch up. 

"Eric! Wait up." He reached Eric, who stood silently, avoiding his eyes. "I'm surprised you would stick up for the sisters like that, after what they did." 

Eric stared at him blankly for a moment, and then started away again. 

"Eric…" But he didn't even stop this time, leaving Wes with the uneasy feeling that more was wrong than he knew about. 

* * *

Eric locked his car and started up the walkway to his house, his reluctance to go in almost feeling like a physical force. He opened the door and stepped inside. It was still the same room, in the same house, but now he felt Angela's presence in it, and the presence of his own misery and guilt. He briefly considered getting drunk, but he'd done that last night and was still feeling the effects. It hadn't helped, had only intensified the pain he felt. And he didn't like the way it reminded him of his mother. 

After changing into sweatpants and a tee-shirt, he turned off the light, turned on the television, lay on the couch and stared at it, not particularly caring what was on, just letting the noise distract his thoughts. After three nights of almost no sleep, he was exhausted. In a few minutes his eyes drifted shut. 

When he opened them, his first thought was that something was wrong. The television was still on, but something had awakened him. Then he heard it again, a sound coming from outside. Coming from his door. A scratching sound. He reached for the remote control to turn off the television, but some instinct stopped him. Someone was out there, trying to get in. And if he turned off the TV, they would know he was awake. 

Then there was no more time. He heard the sound of a blast, his doorknob disappeared in a flash of energy, and the dark forms of men dressed in black were bursting in. He was already on his feet, and leaped over the end of the couch to take cover behind it. That gave him a precious split second to raise his morpher and shout into it, seeing the familiar flash of light and feeling the welcome surge of energy as he transformed into the Quantum Ranger. 

They were on him before he finished morphing, three of them firing blasters at him, catching him before the suit could fully protect him. He felt the painful pulses of energy -- a horribly familiar sensation -- and fell back against the wall. But he pushed himself up and attacked, vaulting over the couch on one hand and landing a kick to one of his opponents. He punched two of them away before two more tackled him. On his back, he kicked them off and drew the Quantum Defender, stunning a couple of them with quick bursts. 

But there were more, and they caught him again with their weapons, the concentrated fire overwhelming his suit. In moments he felt the familiar, painful electric-shock sensation of his morpher losing its power, demorphing him in a flash of warping light. 

Disoriented, his body barely able to move, he tried to fight back. Hands grabbed him, dragging him toward the door. Dimly he looked up, trying to force his body to get up and keep on fighting. Then he realized something strange was happening. 

His attackers seemed to be struggling with something invisible. Some of their blasters had flown up to the ceiling, hanging there like some kind of bizarre decorations, and the rest of them were fighting to hold on to theirs. The ones dragging him had dropped him on the floor and were looking around in confusion. 

"What is this? Where is he?" he heard one of them shout. 

A moment later another shout came from the direction of the door. "It's them! Get out!" There was a general rush for the doorway, several of them stopping long enough to pick up their fallen comrades. 

The blasters floated from the ceiling and piled themselves neatly on the couch. In a few moments it was all over. He sat up, looking around in a daze. The television had been knocked over at some point, and it was suddenly dark and quiet. 

Then he saw them, in the light shining in from the street lights and the moon. Five women, standing in his doorway. He knew instantly who they were. Climbing unsteadily to his feet, he picked up a lamp and clicked the switch. When it went on he set it down on an end table. The birdcage caught his eye, lying on the floor in its corner, and he went to pick it up. The two birds were agitated, but apparently unharmed. He hung up the cage before turning back to his visitors. 

"I guess you did this," he said. His eyes found Angela, standing behind her sisters. 

"That's right. But personally I would have preferred to let you fry," Carrie said, her arms crossed and an unpleasant smile on her face. 

"They seemed like they couldn't see me. That was you?" he asked Dana. 

"Yes. Gina warned us. And since we're supposedly on the same side, we came to stop it." 

"I guess you expect me to thank you." 

"Suit yourself." 

Eric didn't even have the energy to glare at them. He retrieved his cell phone from the floor, only to find it dead. The phone on his wall was smashed and useless. With a muttered curse, he raised his morpher. 

"Wes. It's Eric." 

After a few seconds it answered, in a very sleepy voice. _"Eric? What's up?"_

"I've just been attacked. By the same guys who broke into Bio-Lab." 

_"Are you all right?"_ He sounded awake now. 

"I'm fine. My phone's busted. I need you to call the police and Steve Miller for me." 

_"Are you home? Do you want me to come over?"_

"Yes, I'm home. Don't come over. I don't want anyone seeing you yet. Just call the cops and I'll see you tomorrow." 

_"Okay. Let me know if I can do anything."_

"Thanks." He disconnected and looked up at the sisters again. "Thanks. I probably don't deserve it." 

"We were glad to help," Emma said quickly, with a stern look at Carrie and Dana. "We need to leave before the police get here. Will you be all right?" 

"Sure." He watched them turn to go, Emma giving him a sympathetic look, Dana and Carrie moving away quickly, Gina smiling at him shyly before leaving. 

"Angela." She had lingered for a moment, and now looked at him silently, waiting. He took a few steps closer. "I'm sorry." 

"You said that before." 

"I don't know what else to say." 

"Well, maybe we're even now." 

"They recognized you. Now they know you're here. All of you put yourselves in danger, to save me. Why?" 

"Maybe we still need your help. Or maybe we couldn't just stand by and let you be hurt or killed." She looked at him silently for a long moment, her face unreadable, then turned and left. 

Eric watched her go. The situation had changed, dangerously. Now TransGenics would be looking for the sisters, trying to recapture them, perhaps to eliminate them. But there might be something he could do. 

* * *

It was morning at Bio-Lab. They walked in, Angela with Dana, Carrie, and Gina, looking around curiously. All of them felt some familiarity with their surroundings, because of their link with Emma, but none of them had been inside before. Even with dark glasses, and a scarf concealing Dana's green hair, they attracted plenty of stares, with their four identical faces. 

Emma met them at the reception area, and hurried them back into her office. They kept their faces down, and avoided looking directly at anyone. It was a relief to close the door behind them. Dana and Emma sat down, the others leaning against the desk or the wall. 

"I feel like I just ran the gauntlet," Angela said. 

"We did. I just hope it's going to be worth it. I hope we can trust them," Carrie said. 

Emma turned to face her. "Of course we can trust them. I wish you'd learn not to hate humans so much." 

"I don't hate them. But it's hard not to resent the way we've been treated." 

"Only by T-Gen. Everyone at Bio-Lab has tried to help us. Even Eric, even after what we did." 

Carrie frowned. "We saved his life. It's the least he can do." 

Angela answered angrily, "Everyone here's been very generous to us. You're not being fair." 

"And I think the two of you have been spending too much time with humans. Maybe you've gotten to like Wes and Eric a little too much." 

"That's ridiculous." 

"It would be ridiculous if either of you thought you could actually have a relationship with a human." 

"I know that's not possible. But I still like both of them, as friends," Emma said. 

"I think you want more than that. You're just not honest enough to admit it." 

"Leave her alone," Angela said. "Just because you're too bitter to see that we're no different from humans..." 

"We should go now. Hurry, before it's too late," Gina interrupted softly. 

"Right. The three of you can fight later, when we have time," Dana said. 

They stood with an exchange of glances, replacing their dark glasses. Emma went first, turning to beckon them. They filed quickly out of the office, looking around apprehensively. 

They had gotten only a few yards down the hallway when Taylor turned a corner ahead of them and stopped to stare. They quickly turned their faces away. Emma threw a frightened glance at him and herded them into a side corridor, out of his sight. Once they turned another corner they stopped. 

"Well, that's it," Emma said. "He saw us. He knows who we are. And he'll go right to his friends at T-Gen." 

* * *


	12. Showdown

Wes, Eric, Mr. Collins, Dr. Zaskin, Taylor, Miller, Philips, Silver Hills and Bio-Lab belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, but I am not and do not expect to make money from this.  
Gaby, Emma, Angela, Gunn, the sisters, Alcott, and TransGenics are mine. 

Rated PG-13 : Strong sexuality; harsh language, moderate violence. 

The last chapter. The story is over, but not the series. _The Second Time_ is coming very soon.  
My thanks to everyone who read this far, and especially those who submitted reviews. They are appreciated, and I do pay attention to the opinions expressed in them. The reasonable ones, anyway. 

**For Wes/Jen fans:** Hang in there! She's an important part of the next story (but be patient), and even more of the one after that. Remember, most of the fun is not in the destination, but in getting there. 

* * *

* * *

Wes took his time, walking slowly toward the small house where Emma lived with her sisters. He was enjoying himself despite his anticipation of what was to come. It was a pleasant night, and he had been cooped up in his father's house for too long. Not to mention the days he had spent in the hospital before that. Just being outdoors, walking along a quiet street, was a pleasure. 

Too soon, he reached his destination. Using the keys Emma had given him, he let himself in and turned on the lights. Looking around, he saw the house was neat and uncluttered, containing very little that was not essential. He knew the sisters all lived here most of the time, and they also kept an apartment, which Angela had used during her brief relationship with Eric. 

With a sigh, he morphed and looked around for something to do, ending up sitting on the couch with the television on. He chuckled at the thought of how ridiculous he must look, the famous Red Ranger sitting around watching the boob tube. Not to mention the remote wasn't that easy to handle with the Ranger gloves on. Hopefully it wouldn't take long. 

Just as he found something interesting to watch, the wait was over. There was a crash as the front door burst open. The dark forms of men in black poured in, several of them charging into the living room to grab him by the arms and yank him up, pulling him quickly toward the door. He struggled, but not very hard. Other men ran up the stairs and swarmed through every room in the small house. Two men held him in the small entranceway while the search went on. 

After a few minutes they returned to where Wes was being held, empty-handed. "The others aren't here!" one of them reported to a man standing in the doorway, obviously in charge. "Just the one." 

"Better than nothing," the man said. "Move out." They dragged Wes out the door and swiftly pushed him into a car, the leader holding a blaster to his head. In seconds they were moving, turning onto the main street and heading south. One of them roughly pulled a cloth bag over Wes's head. 

"Stay quiet. And don't try any of your tricks," the leader growled, poking him in the helmeted head with his blaster for emphasis. Wes was disappointed. He had been enjoying the view. 

They rode in silence for perhaps twenty minutes before turning onto what felt like a dirt road, bumping along for another five minutes or so, and coming to a stop. He heard the doors open, and felt hands pull him out. Someone removed the bag, and he looked around at moonlit woods surrounding the large clearing they were in and a small cabin a few yards away, toward which he was rudely pushed. There was a helicopter behind the building. He let them open the door and shove him inside. 

There was a man in a suit sitting at a table inside the cabin. He looked up as Wes and four of his captors entered. Confusion and alarm swiftly appeared on his face as he jumped to his feet. 

"What the hell are you doing with him?" he shouted. 

"What are you talking about?" the leader said. "We brought you what you wanted." 

"I wanted the sisters! Not him!" 

Wes shook off his guards' grips and grinned. "Sorry to disappoint you. But you're about to get a lot more than just me." He raised his morpher and pressed a button. "Eric? Time to join the party." 

_"Got ya,"_ Eric's voice came back. 

"Shoot him and let's get out of here!" Mr. Suit yelled. 

"Shoot who? What the hell is going on?" the leader yelled back. He drew his blaster and pointed it at Wes indecisively. 

"Blasting a helpless woman, huh?" Wes said. "I don't like that much." He pivoted and neatly kicked the blaster out of his hand, then punched him satisfyingly in the jaw. The other men in black moved to the attack, and Wes busied himself for a few moments with them, hitting two in the middle and knocking the last one down with another kick. "Thanks, I needed a workout," he said cheerfully, looking around for more. 

He heard blaster fire and shouts from outside. As he ran out, he saw a squad of Silver Guardians in battle with the men in black, and the Quantum Ranger charging toward the cabin. They joined forces in the middle of the clearing and opened fire, moving to help surround the enemy. In moments the men in black were raising their hands in surrender and being rounded up. Wes turned back to the cabin to see the suit-man coming out, his hands raised also, with several Guardians behind him. 

Eric moved closer to Wes. "You okay?" 

"Sure. It worked like a charm." 

"I still think I should have been the one." 

"Oh, come on, Eric. You've got to let me have some fun sometime. And anyway, your morpher could tell you where I was. Mine doesn't talk to me." 

They followed the Guardians and their captive to where the sisters stood watching, with Miller next to them. The prisoner stared at them with hatred, quickly masked by a cold smile. Dana and Carrie smiled back. Gina shrank back behind her sisters. 

"Hello, Dr. Alcott," Dana said pleasantly. "Imagine meeting you here." 

"Dana, Carrie, Angela, Emma, Gina." The man, middle-aged with a thin face, nodded at each of them. Wes found himself admiring his nerve. 

"I'd like to introduce all of you to Dr. Jonathan Alcott," Dana said. "Dr. Alcott was one of the people in charge of us. He works for TransGenics, although I'm sure you won't be able to prove it." 

Alcott smiled. "You always were the smart one. I'm glad to see you and your sisters have done so well for yourselves." 

"Thanks. Obviously _you_ weren't so smart, today." 

After an unpleasant smile at Dana, Alcott turned back to Eric and Wes. "I'm curious. How did you do this?" 

Wes said, "You tell them, Eric. It was mostly your idea." 

"Simple. We set Taylor up to see the sisters, knowing he would run right to you. We also figured he'd get Emma's home address, and that you'd decide to drop in on them. Gina helped with the planning, she told us it would work, and even about what time you'd show up. You didn't see them, but the sisters were near the house the whole time, and Dana made the Red Ranger look like Emma to your men. They broke in, grabbed him, and brought him here. All we had to do was follow. And you were cooperative enough to be here in person." 

"Clever. We could use a man like you on our side." 

"Never happen. I don't work with people who attack me in my home. By the way, were you trying to kill me or kidnap me?" 

Alcott smiled. "We had nothing to do with that." 

"Of course. And you had nothing to do with that device that was planted in Wes Collins' office." Alcott's smile slipped a little. "That's right. Wes and Mr. Collins are fine. All that effort, and you have nothing to show for it." Eric motioned, and the two groups of men were led away. He turned back to Wes. "Now to take care of Taylor." 

Wes grinned. "This will be a pleasure." 

"Just give me half an hour alone with him..." 

"Forget it, Eric. There would be nothing left for me." 

* * *

It had been over a week since Wes had walked through the Bio-Lab front doors. The last time he was here, he had been carried out, on his way to the hospital. And only days ago, he had come close to killing his father and Eric. Remembering that, he began to look forward even more to what he was about to do. Eric was walking next to him. Side by side, they strode through the corridors, meeting his father, and then Gunn. The four of them walked quickly. Wes nodded at several people who obviously were surprised to see him, but he didn't stop. 

They halted in front of Taylor's office. They were ready for the showdown, at last. Wes knocked on the door, and opened it when he heard Taylor's voice. He stepped in, his father and the other two following at his back. Taylor looked up, his surprise -- and a flash of dismay -- obvious. 

"Wesley! I didn't expect to see you today. How are you?" he exclaimed. 

"I'm much better, thanks. How are _you_ feeling?" 

"I'm fine," Taylor said, eyeing Eric cautiously. 

"Glad to hear it. I just dropped by to thank you." 

"Thank me for what?" 

"For bringing me that picture. Made me feel like a different man." 

Again dismay flickered over Taylor's face. But he recovered at once and smiled. "I was glad to help." They all stared at him, smiling grimly as his nervousness increased. "What can I do for the rest of you gentlemen?" he asked finally. 

"As a matter of fact, you can tell us how long you've been working for TransGenics," Gunn said. 

If any of them had any doubts about Taylor's guilt, his face would have dispelled them. Stark fear was on it. He hid it quickly and smiled again, a little shakily. "I don't know what you mean." 

"Yes, you do. You've been hacking into our computer systems, looking for information. Gabriella Butler has collected enough evidence for us to arrest you for that alone. But there's more, isn't there?" 

Wes took a step closer. "You brought that picture to me, knowing it was what was making me sick. Knowing it would make me violent. I could have killed my father, and my best friend, because of you. Then when you figured Dad and I were out of the way, your friends tried to get rid of Eric so you could take over here. And then you set up the sisters to be kidnapped." 

Collins said softly, "You attacked my company, and more importantly, my employees and my son. And we can prove it. We have the device that was hidden in the picture frame. Care to guess whose fingerprints are on it?" 

"That's attempted murder," Eric said with a fierce smile. 

"You can't prove it. There's no way you can prove what that device was for." 

"Maybe we don't have to. Think about it. T-Gen killed their own men during that break-in, rather than take the chance they'd talk. How long do you think you'll last, once they know we're on to you?" 

"Maybe we won't have you arrested," Gunn said. "Maybe we'll fire you and leak the information that we know what you've been up to and who you've been working for. Let's see how long it takes for T-Gen to catch up with you." 

Taylor's smile was long gone. He swallowed and looked up at each of their faces. "What are you offering?" he finally said. 

* * *

_I hate goodbyes._ But there was no avoiding this one. _You will not cry!_ Gaby told herself sternly. She wished fleetingly that she had stayed home, and avoided this. _Such a coward._ But she would never have forgiven herself. 

She watched Emma finish packing the few personal items she had kept at work and turn to her with a smile. The time had come. Gaby grinned suddenly. "You know, you guys remind me of something. Five people with strange powers. Five different colors." 

Emma laughed. "Yeah, right. The Power Mutants." 

"You should get some costumes and go into the superhero business. You're naturals." 

"The X-Sisters." 

"Mutant XX." 

They shared another moment of laughter, then smiled at each other again. 

"How's the treatment coming?" 

"Great, so far. Dr. Zaskin says our tests show definite improvement. And Dana and Gina say they can feel the difference." She smiled. "It's like a second chance. And we feel like we're getting free of T-Gen for the first time." 

"Dr. Zaskin thinks his treatment may be what T-Gen was after all along." 

"Could be. I don't think they knew about it specifically, but they were looking for a way to stabilize their mutants' DNA. So they spied on Bio-Lab since it was associated with mutants in the past." 

"They probably thought Bio-Lab created them. Just like you did. So they were looking for information about them." 

Emma shrugged slightly. "Yeah, we were wrong about that. And so were they." 

"I hear Taylor totally spilled his guts." 

"That's what I hear. Several of the hired guns in the break-in, and the attack on Eric -- and 'my' kidnapping -- talked too. They also found the blaster that killed those men in their possession. Of course, T-Gen covered their tracks, but not perfectly. There's a trail back through their subsidiaries and some 'former' employees. Mr. Collins says it should keep T-Gen's lawyers busy for a while. He thinks they won't dare come after us in the future. But most of us think it's better to disappear again anyway." 

"Speaking of disappearing, I guess you know Dr. Alcott made bail and promptly vanished." 

"Yes. He's probably gone back to South America. We may hear from him again." 

"I guess it _is_ safer for you to stay away." 

"My sisters want me with them. But I hate to let T-Gen scare us away. It's like letting them win." 

Gaby smiled. "This place won't be the same without you." 

"Thanks. Wish me luck." Emma stepped forward and they hugged tightly. 

"Good luck. Take care of yourself. Don't you dare not write to me." 

"Don't worry. Keep an eye on Wes. And take care of Eric. So long, Gaby." 

"Bye, Emma. See you." 

* * *

Eric sat in his office, not even pretending to work. Wes had been there already, trying to get him to come and say goodbye. But he knew he wouldn't be welcome. None of the sisters would be glad to see him, despite his help. And with reason. 

A light tap at the door interrupted his thoughts. He called, "Come on in, it's open," expecting Wes again. He straightened when Angela stepped into the room. She looked around, then closed the door behind her. 

"Angela. I'm surprised you're willing to be alone with me." 

"I don't think you'd do the same thing again." 

"You're right. But I did do it once. No getting away from that." 

"I forgive you. I hope you forgive me." 

Eric looked at her, surprised. "Just like that?" 

"Like I said, I guess we're even." 

"Things shouldn't work that way." 

"Sometimes they do. Are you going to be all right?" 

"Sure. I'm fine." 

"You're such a liar." 

He sighed. "Maybe. But what can either of us do about it anyway? It's done now, both what you did to me and what I did to you. We can't change it." 

She took a step closer. "Dana could suppress your memories. That would get rid of any feelings you have left for me." 

He looked at her. "No. I don't want anyone poking around in my mind again. Besides, those memories are part of me now. I don't want to lose them." He hesitated. "I know the truth about you now. We could have an honest relationship. Maybe..." 

She smiled, a little sadly. "No. What you're feeling isn't real. You don't love me, and I don't think you ever would, really. And I don't love you. It would never work, anyway. We'd both always wonder how much of what you feel is because of my power." 

He was surprised at the strength of his disappointment. But he also felt a definite twinge of relief. "How long before I get over it?" he asked. 

She shrugged. "A few weeks. You're already starting to realize I'm not quite as beautiful and fascinating as you thought." 

He smiled slightly. "Can I ask you something?" 

"Go ahead." 

"Why did you say yes, that night?" 

She smiled. "I guess I thought you were right, that I owed you something. Besides, you're a very attractive man. And I'm only..." 

"Human?" They smiled at each other. "Where are you going? Will you be all right?" Eric went on. 

"The east coast, probably. We don't know for sure exactly where we'll end up. Mr. Collins is helping us with money and new identities. Gina says everything will be fine." 

"Nice to have a psychic in the family." 

"Yes. Well, I'd better be going. They're waiting." 

He stepped closer, to face her, and put out his hand. "Goodbye, Angela. And good luck. I hope you find a happy life." 

She took his hand. "And I hope you find a way to be -- more comfortable with yourself. I wish you the best." 

With a last smile, she turned and walked out. Eric watched her go, not moving long after she was gone. 

* * *

Wes stopped outside Eric's office. The room was dark, except for the desk lamp. It wasn't like Eric to leave so early, or to leave his office unlocked, and he wasn't on any field assignments. On the other hand, under the circumstances, maybe he had left anyway. Wes stepped inside, intending to turn out the lamp. Then he saw Eric, standing at the window, looking out at the night, his dark head and dark uniformed back almost invisible. 

"Eric? What are you doing?" 

"Nothing." 

Wes moved to where he could see Eric's face. "Are you all right?" 

"Everyone keeps asking me that." 

"They're worried about you." 

"Have they gone?" 

Wes didn't have to ask who he meant. "Yeah. They left a couple of hours ago." When Eric didn't respond he went on. "I came to ask if you want to come over to the house for dinner." 

"No. Thanks. I'm not hungry. Wouldn't be good company anyway." 

"That doesn't matter." Getting no answer, Wes went on. "Dad wants you to come. He wants to thank you for everything you did for us." 

Eric turned away from the window and leaned against the wall. "He came back, Wes." 

"Huh? Who?" 

"_My_ other side. The guy who stole the morpher, and fought with you, who held a blaster to your head and laughed. The one who's always angry, and always looking for a way to get back, and gets violent when he thinks he's been crossed. I thought I'd gotten rid of him. But he's part of me. He'll always be there." Eric's voice shook almost imperceptibly. 

"Eric -- what happened?" 

"Angela. She came to see me a few days ago. I was so angry. I wanted to hurt her the way she hurt me." 

"What did you do?" Wes wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to that. 

"I tried -- I didn't think she'd say yes, but she did. But I wanted to humiliate her... make her feel dirty and used, like I did... I guess I got rough, and she got scared, started to struggle... For a minute I wanted to _really_ hurt her." 

"Oh, God." 

His eyes moved to Wes's horrified face. "No, it wasn't as bad as you're thinking. I let her go -- felt so ashamed..." 

"She didn't say anything." 

"No. She even came to say goodbye." Eric turned away to look out the window again. 

"If she forgives you -- maybe you should forgive yourself." 

Eric sighed. "You don't understand. I knew she did what she did out of desperation. But all I could think about was myself." 

"Look... You were angry and hurt, and that's natural. What they did to you -- playing with your mind, and your feelings, like that... it was enough to drive anyone a little crazy. Maybe you made a mistake, but you stopped before you did anything really terrible. Everyone has to try to control the side of them that's angry and ugly. I give you a lot of credit that you controlled it as well as you did." 

Wes waited for a few moments, but there was no response. "Well, I'll leave you alone. Think about what I said. See you tomorrow." He laid his hand on Eric's shoulder for a moment and then started out. He had reached the door when he turned back at the sound of Eric's voice. 

"Wes. Is that dinner invitation still on?" 

Wes smiled. "Sure. Hurry up and get changed." He waited for his friend to join him at the doorway, before they left together. 

* * *

_Year: 2202_

The room was small, darkened, and quiet. Three people spoke to each other in low voices. They had to be careful. So far Time Force had not detected them. 

"So Alcott failed us," a tall, handsome, powerful-looking man with black hair said. 

"Yes, for now. But the sisters were just an experiment. It's not a major setback," the other man said. He was not as tall or as heavy, and his hair was red and spiky. 

"TransGenics has been affected." 

"They're still in business. Their reputation is not important to us. And legal action will take years. By that time, no one will be able to stop us." 

"Our plan is still in place. And Alcott is still free. Nothing has changed," a slender, silver-haired woman said. 

"Good," the black-haired man said. "Time for the next step." His voice became softer as he turned to the red-haired man. "Destroy the Quantum Ranger. And we'll ultimately destroy Time Force." 

* * *

*End*


End file.
